THE   LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF 
LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


LADY    DOROTHY    NEVII.L   AT    MO.MK 


THE  LIFE  &  LETTERS  OF 
LADY    DOROTHY   NEVILL 


BY 

HER  SON 
RALPH   NEVILL 

w 


NEW  YORK 
E.   P.  DUTTON  AND  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


NOTE 

MR.  RALPH  NEVILL  wishes  to  express  his 
gratitude  to  His  Majesty  the  King  for  having 
graciously  permitted  the  publication  of  letters 
written  by  his  illustrious  father  when  Prince  of  Wales. 
Thanks  are  also  due  to  Blanche,  Countess  of  Airlie, 
Louisa,  Viscountess  Wolseley,  Lords  Nelson,  Lytton, 
Knutsford,  and  Northcliffe,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frederic 
Harrison,  Madame  Duclaux,  Mrs.  Cazalet,  Miss 
Elizabeth  Haldane,  and  others,  for  having  facilitated 
the  author's  task.  Viscount  Lascelles,  it  may  be 
added,  has  kindly  revised  the  letterpress  dealing  with 
his  great-uncle,  the  late  Lord  Clanricarde. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

PAGE 

lucky  portrait — Horace  Walpole's  house — Letter  from  Lord 
Beaconsfield — A  strange  Jacobite — Wolterton  Hall — Country^ 
life  in  old  days — Early  Victorian  education — Mr.  Spencer] 
Walpole — Old-world  Dorset — Puddletown  church — Pierre 
Lombard — The  Fawkener  family — A  friend  of  Voltaire — 
Social  changes — The  advent  of  steam — The  old  aristocracy — 
A  Tory  Peer  and  his  uncompromising  ways — Disapproval  of 
Queen  Victoria's  marriage — The  decay  of  elocution — Blue 
coats  and  brass  buttons  ....  Page         i 


CHAPTER   II 

Continental  travel  in  the  forties — Anecdotes — Florence — Watts 
as  a  young  man — The  Villa  Mathilde — Rome  under  Papal 
rule — Cardinal  Giuseppe  Zacchia — The  charm  of  Venice — 
The  late  Lord  Lovelace — Letters — Lord  Hertford — Sir 
Richard  Wallace — Lady  Rachel  Walpole — Introduction  of 
the  Polka — Fashionable  amusements  of  the  past — Dwaka- 
nauth  Tagore — His  letter — A  country  marriage  in  1848 — 
Strange  pets — Samuel  Rogers  and  his  breakfasts — The 
Exhibition  of  1851 — The  vanished  glories  of  Hyde  Park       .       24 

CHAPTER  III 

A  Hampshire  home — Country  house-parties  of  the  past — Sir 
William  Harcourt — Sir  Charles  Butt — Sir  Alexander  Cock- 
burn — Mrs.  Sartoris  and  Tennyson — Bishop  Wilberforce — 
Anecdotes — Archdeacon  Wilberforce — Delane — Mr.  Calcraft 
— Darwin — Professor  Mivart — Church  restoration — Old  Lady 
Featherstonhaugh — Sir  William  Hooker — Frank  Buckland 
and  silkworm  culture — Green  wood — Muscology — Life  in  the 
country — Book  illumination      ......       47 

CHAPTER   IV 

Tour  abroad — Einsiedel — Collecting — A  relic  of  Horace  Walpole 
— The  Miss  Berrys — Pope — Mrs.  Oldfield — Nelson  and  the 
Walpoles— Burnham    Thorpe    Church    letters — Mr.    H.    N. 

vii 


viii  LADY   DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Moseley — Letters — Life  in  East  Sussex — A  rustic  centenarian    PAGE 
—  Mormonism  —  Old   ironwork  —  An   interesting    letter  — 
Sunday    observance — The    "  Unco    Guid  " — Letter    from 
Lord  Northcliffe — Visit  to  Norfolk 76 


CHAPTER  V 

Social  life  in  the  eighties — Lady  St.  Helier — Sunday  lunches — 
The  Fourth  -Party — Sir  John  Gorst — Sir  Henry  Drummond- 
Wolff — Lord  Randolph  Churchill — Letter  from  John  Bright 
— Lord  Glenesk — Lady  Bathurst — Mr.  Joseph  Chamberlain 
— Letters — Lord  Wolseley — Letters — Sir  Henry  Brackenbury 
— The  Duke  of  Cambridge — His  resignation — Sir  Henry 
Irving — Mr.  Choate — Roast  guinea-pig — Mr.  George  Russell     107 


CHAPTER  VI 

Society  in  Victorian  days — Miss  Mary  Anderson — Anecdote — An 
unpresentable  millionaire — Lord  Palmerston — Anecdotes — 
Lord  Ellenborough — Lord  Beaconsfield — His  career — Anec- 
dotes— At  Strathfieldsaye — Ecclesiastical  flair — His  life  by 
Mr.  Monypenny — Mr.  Gladstone — Anecdotes — Lord  Sher- 
brooke — Lord  Salisbury — Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman — 
Lady  Warwick — Socialism — Modern  politicians  and  their 
ways       ..........      141 


CHAPTER   VII 

Associations  of  Mayfair — Charles  Street  and  Berkeley  Square — 
Great  ladies  of  Victorian  days — Their  social  power — Lady 
Chesterfield — Her  daughter,  Lady  Carnarvon — A  unique 
succession  of  friendships — Lady  Bathurst — Bernal  Osborne 
— Lady  Waldegrave  at  Strawberry  Hill — Lady  Cork — The 
late  Lord  Clanricarde — His  eccentricities  and  ways — 
Anecdotes — Lady  Cardigan  and  her  Memoirs — Anecdotes — 
The  sins  of  society  .  .  .  .  .  .  .         .175 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Literary  friends — Venables — 'Lord  Houghton — Frederick  Locker 
— An  original  poem — Mr.  Justin  McCarthy — Some  modern 
writers — Mr.  Stead  and  spiritualism — Sir  Harry  Johnson — 
Stanley  —  Alfred  Austin  —  Anecdote  —  Artistic  friends  — 
Whistler  —  Miss  Kate  Greenaway  —  Letters  —  Sir  Henry 
Thompson — Letters — Miss  Maxwell  (Miss  Braddon) — Letters 
— Mr.  Edmund  Gosse — Madame  Duclaux — Letters — Blanche 
Countess  of  Airlie    ........     197 


CONTENTS  ix 


CHAPTER   IX 

Correspondence  with  friends — The  2nd  Duke  of  Wellington —  PAGe 
Letter  from  Sir  William  Gregory — Anecdotes — Dr.  Jessopp 
and  his  gruesome  dream — His  life  and  work — Letters  from 
Mr.  Frederic  Harrison — The  South  African  War — Mr. 
Chamberlain — Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  and  Skibo  Castle — 
Miss  Viola  Tree — Criticisms  of  the  Government — Anti- 
Suffrage  League — Prophecies  which  have  come  true — Lovable 
Bath 225 


CHAPTER  -X 

The  2nd  Lord  Lytton — Letters — Trial  of  dynamiters — Sir  Clare 
Ford — Ouida — Edward  VII — Letters — Taste  in  books — A 
ridiculous  rumour — George  V — Queen  Victoria  at  Grasses — 
The  eruptions  of  Mont  Pelee— -Political  excitement  at 
Tangier — Herr  von  Kuhlmann  in  1905 — Letter  from  Sir 
Henry  Brackenbury  in  India — The  tactless  Smart  Set — 
Lord  Curzon  as  Viceroy — Japan  and  Russia — Sir  Henry  Cole 
— A  letter  from  America — Edward  Cazalet  .         .  .     253 


CHAPTER  XI 

Spartan  habits — Old  friends — The  Hon.  Gerald  and  Lady  Maria 
Ponsonby — Lady  Dorchester — Country-house  visits — Death 
of  Lady  Cork — A  great  light  of  the  social  world — The  end — 
A  wonderful  life — Motor-cars  and  horses — An  elusive 
personality — A  dictum  of  Dr.  Jowett — Social  gifts — Incon- 
sistency— Views  as  to  female  suffrage — Countess  Kisseleff — 
Mrs.  Fawcett — Philanthropic  work — Visits  to  the  London 
Hospital — Hatred  of  humbug — Literary  efforts — Past  and 
present  ........••     283 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


Lady  Dorothy  Nevill  ......  Frontispiece 

FACE    PAGE 

Lady  Dorothy  and  Lady  Rachel  Walpole  ....         8 

Lady  Dorothy  Nevill  as  a  Girl,  her  Sister,  Lady  Pollington, 

and  Child      ..........       38 

Lady  Dorothy  Nevill  in  her  Cottage  at  Haslemere         .  .      102 

Field-Marshal    Viscount    Wolseley,    K.P.,    P.C.,    G.C.B.,    O.M., 

G.C.M.G 130 

(From  a  photograph  by  W.  and  D.  Downey) 

"Disraeli" 152 

(From  an  etching) 

Letter  from  Miss  Kate  Greenaway 204 

Lady  Dorothy  Nevill  in  Old  Age      ......     286 

(From  a  silhouette  executed  about  1907) 


THE   LIFE    &P   LETTERS   OF 
LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 


CHAPTER  I 

A  lucky  portrait — Horace  Walpole's  house — Letter  from  Lord 
Beaconsneld — A  strange  Jacobite — Wolterton  Hall — Country  life  in 
old  days — Early  Victorian  education — Mr.  Spencer  Walpole — Old- 
World  Dorset — Puddletown  church — Pierre  Lombard — The  Fawkener 
family — A  friend  of  Voltaire — Social  changes — The  advent  of  steam — 
The  old  aristocracy — A  Tory  Peer  and  his  uncompromising  ways — 
Disapproval  of  Queen  Victoria's  marriage — The  decay  of  elocution — 
Blue  coats  and  brass  buttons. 

MY  mother  received  the  name  of  Dorothy  in 
remembrance  of  her  ancestress,  Dorothy 
Townshend,  sister  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole, 
whose  memory,  owing  to  her  sweetness  and  intelli- 
gence, endured  in  Norfolk  long  after  her  death. 
According  to  a  charming  legend  Dorothy  Townshend's 
portrait  at  Rainham  was  wont  on  certain  nights  to 
step  out  of  its  frame,  bringing  good  luck  to  anyone 
whom  it  might  encounter  on  its  spectral  rounds. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  name  of  Dorothy  certainly 
brought  good  luck  to  my  mother  who  cherished  the 
cult  of  her  beautiful  ancestress  all  through  the  long 
and  happy  life  which,  four  years  before  the  death  of 
George  IV,  began  at  No.  n  Berkeley  Square — the 
eighteenth-century  mansion  in  which  had  lived  her 
kinsman,  Horace  Walpole. 

The  next  year,  1827,  it  passed  out  of  her  father's — 
Lord  Orford's — possession,  owing,  she  used  to  declare, 
to  one  night's  heavy  losses  at  the  gaming  table 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


Though  it  was  impossible  that  she  can  have  remem- 
bered much  about  this  old  house,  she  always  had  an 
extraordinary  fondness  for  everything  connected  with 
its  history. 

Among  her  papers,  for  instance,  was  found  a  list 
of  former  owners  up  to  1892. 


Sir  Cecil  Bishop 

Horace  Walpole 

The  Ladies  Waldegrave 

Lord  Walpole    . 

Hon.  R.  Clive 

Earl  of  Orford 

Henry  Baring 

Mrs.  Baring 

Empty 

Oliver  Gourley  Miller 

Earl  of  Clarendon 

Vernon  Watney 


1741-1778 
1779-1797 
1798-1816 
1817-1820 
1821-1822 
1824-1827 
1828-1848 
1849-1874 
1875-1876 
1877-1878 
1879-1891 
1892- 


An  appended  footnote  says  :  "  This,  the  east  side  of 
the  square,  was  first  built  in  1735-1740/ ' 

As  a  child,  my  mother  passed  much  of  her  time  at 
Wolterton  Hall,  in  Norfolk,  a  mansion  built  by  the 
first  Lord  Walpole,  Ambassador  to  Louis  XV  (1723- 
1730),  and  brother  to  Sir  Robert  Walpole.  Houghton 
and  Wolterton  were  built  simultaneously  in  different 
parts  of  the  county,  and  the  same  artists,  from  Italy 
and  elsewhere,  journeyed  to  and  fro  to  complete  the 
two  magnificent  mansions. 

Wolterton  is  a  sort  of  smaller  Houghton  and  con- 
tains state-rooms  of  fine  proportions,  with  mantel- 
pieces of  extraordinary  beauty.  The  furniture, 
pictures — in  fact,  practically  the  whole  of  the  dining- 
room — were  presented  to  Lord  Walpole  by  Caroline, 
wife  of  George  II.  For  the  pictures — portraits  of 
herself  and  her  family — she  gave  some  finely  carved 
frames.  Certain  portions  of  this  woodwork  which 
were  falling  into  decay  during  the  days  when  the 


LETTER  FROM  BEACONSFIELD  3 

house  was  abandoned,  were  rescued  by  my  mother 
and  set  up  in  her  drawing-room  at  Charles  Street, 
Berkeley  Square.  They  are  now,  however,  once  again 
at  Wolterton,  which  has  been  restored  and  refitted 
by  the  present  Lord  Orford  after  having  been  for 
many  years  left  to  desolation  and  decay  by  his  pre- 
decessor, the  late  earl. 

The  latter  by  general  consent  gifted  with  very 
brilliant  abilities  was  in  his  younger  days  expected 
to  do  great  things. 

Lord  Beaconsfield,  who  as  a  young  man  was  very 
intimate  with  him,  wrote  in  1840  : 

"  Walpole  *  went  to  dine  yesterday  with  the  Miss 
Berrys,  who  now  live  at  Richmond  ;  the  party  con- 
sisting of  Miss  Montague,  Guizot,  and  Pollington 
— very  recherche"  and  Strawberry  Hillish  ?  The  old 
ladies  a  little  in  love  with  the  Horace  Walpole  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  who,  by  the  by,  is  more  elegant, 
fantastical,  and  interesting  than  ever,  and  talks  of 
changing  his  name  and  retiring  to  Parma  or  Cremona 
or  some  city  equally  decayed  and  unvisited.  Venice 
too  vulgar,  with  Monckton  Milnes  writing  sonnets  in 
every  gondola,  and  making  every  bridge  '  a  bridge 
of  sighs.'  I  breakfasted  with  him  to-day,  and  he 
really  was  divine.  I  never  met  anything  like  him — 
such  a  stream  of  humour,  fancy,  philosophy,  and 
quotation,  in  every  language." 

This  description,  though  flowery,  was  in  the  main 
accurate.  At  the  same  time  if  the  4th  Earl  of  Orford 
had  many  of  his  ancestor's  merits  he  also  had  some  of 
his  failings. 

Like  Horace  Walpole's  his  mind  was  a  bundle  of 
curious  inconsistencies  which  well  deserved  Disraeli's 
epithet  of  "  fantastical." 

A  descendant  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  that  staunch 
supporter  of  the  Hanoverians  and  of  the  Protestant 

1  Life  of  Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Beaconsfield.  John  Murray. 
Vol.  11(1837-1846),  p.  94. 


4  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

succession,  my  uncle  became  a  Roman  Catholic  and 
ardent  Jacobite,  collecting  many  valuable  relics  of  the 
old  and  young  Pretender  and  of  Cardinal  York. 

Like  Horace  Walpole's  affected  aversion  to  kings 
and  admiration  for  rebels  his  Jacobite  propensities 
were  really  of  a  very  academic  and  harmless  kind,  he 
kept  them  indeed  (as  his  ancestor  did  old  spears  and 
helmets  at  Strawberry  Hill)  merely  for  show,  and 
though  quite  ready  to  pass  his  glass  over  the  water 
decanter  and  drink  Prince  Charlie's  health,  would 
have  as  soon  have  thought  of  trying  to  rouse  a  real 
agitation  as  his  ancestor  of  taking  down  the  arms  of 
the  ancient  Templars  and  setting  off  on  a  crusade  to 
the  Holy  Land. 

A  bibliophile  and  a  man  of  scholarly  tastes,  he 
never  put  his  undoubtedly  brilliant  abilities  to  any 
serious  use,  but  was  content,  during  the  latter  part  of 
his  life,  to  lead  a  hermit-like  existence  at  his  home  in 
London  and  at  Mannington  Hall,  Norfolk.  Here  forty 
years  before  his  demise  he  erected  a  tomb  for  himself 
inscribed  with  a  Latin  epitaph  of  his  own  composition. 
He  chose  a  pretty  grove  enclosing  the  walls  of  a 
ruined  chapel  overgrown  with  ivy  where  he  now  lies 
beneath  the  open  sky,  around  are  crumbling  memorials 
of  vanished  families,  while  not  very  far  away  stands  a 
pillar  inscribed  :  "  Matri  dulcissimae  Horatius  films," 
which  he  set  up  in  memory  of  his  mother. 

For  Wolterton  my  mother  always  had  an  abiding 
affection,  and  it  was  with  great  pleasure  that  she 
saw  the  house  and  grounds  restored  to  something  of 
their  pristine  state. 

In  September,  1907,  she  wrote  from  Ascot  :  "I 
went  to  my  nephew's  wonderful  house  in  Norfolk  after 
fifty  years  of  being  allowed  (the  poor  dear  house)  to 
go  to  the  bats  and  the  ravens — he  has  restored  it  and 
it  really  is  one  of  the  grandest  houses  I  ever  saw- 
seven  reception-rooms  en  suite — the  bedrooms  above, 
I  had  to  take  sixty  stairs  to  my  bedroom — they  have 
made  it  most  modernly  comfortable.    I  missed  nothing 


WOLTERTON  HALL  5 

but  the  pen-wiper.  We  were  three  Lady  Dorothys 
together  at  Wolterton,  my  niece  Lady  D.  married 
the  duca  del  Balzo,  my  great -niece  Lady  D.  W.,  and 
myself  —  most  interesting.  Do  tell  me  how  your 
Paris  interview  ended.  Now  as  well  as  trippers 
you  will  have  all  Gladstone's  convicts  coming  to  you." 

The  phrase  "  Gladstone's  convicts '  was  highly 
characteristic  of  her  whimsical  bent  of  mind.  Though 
she  had  been  the  intimate  friend  of  Cobden,  Lowe, 
and  many  other  even  more  advanced  Liberals  it  was 
her  habit  to  indulge  in  comically  violent  denunciations 
of  Radicalism  and  Radicals,  and  by  "  Gladstone's 
convicts  '  she  referred  to  certain  devoted  adherents 
of  the  Grand  Old  Man  who  had  recently  settled  in  the 
neighbourhood. 

A  feature  of  the  grounds  at  Wolterton  is  the  number 
of  fine  trees  of  specially  selected  varieties.  It  is  perhaps 
to  be  regretted  that  at  the  back  of  the  house  a  stretch 
of  lawn — the  tapis  vert — which,  as  Lord  Walpole 
wrote  to  his  friend,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Milling,  "  rejoiced  the 
eye,"  has  been  replaced  by  flower-beds. 

The  fine  expanse  of  grass  in  question  was  originally 
no  doubt  laid  down  by  Lord  Walpole  in  imitation  of 
the  parterres  of  Fontainebleau  and  Versailles,  where 
he  had  so  often  strolled  with  his  friend,  Cardinal 
Fleury. 

Life  passed  very  peacefully  at  Wolterton  in  my 
mother's  childhood.  Among  the  gifts  which  a  fairy 
godmother  had  bestowed  upon  her  was  that  of  a  keen 
and  abiding  interest  in  most  things  which  throughout 
her  long  life  ever  prevented  her  from  being  bored. 
There  were  then  few  "  games  "  for  young  people,  but 
she  and  her  sister  were  satisfied  to  lead  a  quiet  existence 
which  varied  little  from  day  to  day.  Certain  hours 
were  set  apart  for  walks,  the  children  being  always 
warmly  welcomed  in  the  villages  round  Wolterton. 
Murder  and  peppermints,  she  always  said,  were  in- 
separably associated  in  her  mind,  owing  to  the  fact 
that,  as  a  child,  she  had  often  been  presented  with 


6  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

sweetmeats  by  Rush  the  murderer  who  kept  a  little 
general  shop  in  the  village  near  Wolterton. 

A  good  deal  of  time  was  passed  in  study  under  the 
supervision  of  her  governess,  or  rather  friend,  Miss 
Redgrave,  a  very  talented  artist  in  water-colour  and 
a  most  clever  woman,  whom  she  loved  all  her  life. 
This  lady  acted  as  a  sort  of  female  Roger  Ascham. 
Her  school  of  education,  my  mother  used  to  say,  was 
conducted  on  much  the  same  lines  as  adopted  for  Lady 
Jane  Grey.  With  Miss  Redgrave  she  read  Les  Oraisons 
Funebres  de  Bossuet,  the  works  of  Fenelon,  L'Histoire 
des  Francais,  by  Sismondi  and  La  Harpe. 

Unlike  many  young  ladies  of  that  day  she  liked  her 
lessons  and  took  a  great  interest  in  these  serious  works 
which  she  remembered  with  pleasure  in  her  old  age. 

Writing  at  the  age  of  eighty-five  to  a  friend  (Miss 
Elizabeth  Haldane)  she  said  : 

"  Madame  Duclaux  has  sent  me  her  new  book  about 
Fenelon.  It  is  so  all-absorbing.  When  we  were 
children  my  father  made  us  read  Les  Oraisons  Funebres 
of  Bossuet  and  Fenelon,  and  I  ever  had  a  most  fas- 
cinating recollection  of  these  delightful  men  and  I  feel 
as  if  all  the  pleasures  of  my  childhood  had  been 
resuscitated  once  more." 

Besides  the  studies  described  above  many  modern 
languages  were  taught — the  little  girl  learnt  French, 
German,  and  Italian,  all  three  of  which  she  read  with  ease. 

In  this  manner,  varied  by  a  little  painting  and  a 
very  little  music  (for  which  my  mother  frankly  con- 
fessed she  had  no  aptitude),  the  days  passed  peace- 
fully and  pleasantly  away.  The  monotony  of  life  in 
winter  was  broken  by  walks  and  drives,  while  in 
summer  there  were  delightful  rambles  about  the  lawns 
and  parterres  bright  with  old-fashioned  flowers  or 
peaceful  reveries  in  the  fragrant  silence  of  the  old- 
world  garden. 

Occasionally  Wolterton  was  enlivened  by  the  visits 
of  youthful  cousins — the  Wests  (of  whom  the  only 


MR.  SPENCER  WALPOLE  7 

living  survivor  is  Sir  Algernon)  or  young  Drummond- 
Wolff,  afterwards  a  member  of  the  Fourth  Party  and 
distinguished  diplomatist. 

The  children  took  a  keen  interest  in  local  excite- 
ments. One  of  the  chief  of  these  was  a  Norfolk 
election  at  which  little  Lady  Dorothy  and  her  sister 
Rachel,  afterwards  Lady  Pollington,  riding  on  their 
ponies,  headed  their  father's  tenantry  to  the  poll. 
My  mother's  eldest  brother,  then  Lord  Walpole  (a 
most  reluctant  candidate,  who  only  stood  because  his 
father  made  him),  being  triumphantly  returned. 

This  was  the  old  type  of  election  which  has  been 
aptly  described  as  concluding  with  a  bonfire,  a  riot, 
and  other  demonstrations  of  enjoyment. 

In  those  days  of  transition  when  "  the  Prize  Ring 
still  flourished  at  the  Keepsake's  Side,"  a  certain 
amount  of  freedom  of  tongue,  fist,  and  stick  was  not 
merely  allowed,  but  deemed  absolutely  necessary. 
The  chairing  of  the  successful  candidate  was  always 
a  great  feature,  and  the  Hon.  Spencer  Walpole  who 
fought  the  election  by  proxy  for  Lord  Walpole  (at 
the  time  in  Italy  whence  he  refused  to  return) 
underwent  this  and  other  customary  ordeals. 

Mr.  Spencer  Walpole  remained  a  great  friend  of 
my  mother  throughout  his  life.  He  was  a  tall  solemn- 
looking  man  who  wore  a  high  choker  and  black  clothes 
in  consequence  of  which  Bernal  Osborne  nicknamed 
him  the  "  High  Stepping  Hearse  Horse." 

Though  possessed  of  considerable  ability  he  came  to 
sad  grief  in  1866  when  as  Home  Secretary  he  unwisely 
ordered  the  gates  of  Hyde  Park  to  be  shut  against 
the  Reform  League.  As  a  result  the  railings  were  broken 
down  and  the  mob  surged  in  amidst  wild  disorder. 

Concerning  this  unfortunate  affair  the  2nd  Lord 
Ellenborough  wrote  to  my  mother  : 

"  Poor  Mr.  Walpole  has  been  subjected  to  a  severer 
test  than  he  was  equal  to.  In  ordinary  times  his 
office  is  an  easy  one  and  therefore  Sir  R.  Peel  pre- 


S  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

ferred  it  to  any  other,  but  in  times  of  difficulty  and 
danger  the  Home  Secretary  should  not,  except  in  a 
case  requiring  sudden  action,  even  move  a  step  with- 
out consulting  the  Prime  Minister." 

In  spite  of  this  unfortunate  affair  Mr.  Walpole, 
though  he  ceased  to  be  Home  Secretary,  retained  a 
seat  in  Lord  Derby's  Cabinet  and  was  generally 
respected.  His  son,  the  late  Sir  Spencer  Walpole, 
held  several  offices  under  Government  and  was  an 
historian  of  considerable  ability. 

A  good  part  of  my  mother's  childhood  was  passed 
at  another  house  ol  her  father's — "  Ilsington  Hall," 
Dorsetshire — which  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  Robert 
Walpole  had  brought  into  the  family  by  marrying 
Margaret  Rolle — Baroness  Clinton  and  Trefusis  in  her 
own  right. 

To  the  last  day  of  her  life  my  mother  retained  a 
great  fondness  for  this  part  of  England,  and  her 
recollections  of  old-time  Wessex  rippled  as  sweetly 
through  her  memory  as  a  stream  through  a  pleasant 
dell. 

With  pleasure  she  recalled  the  clearness  of  the  sky, 
the  sound  of  the  sea,  and  the  grace  of  the  pleasant 
woods. 

Here  she  went  for  delightful  rides  over  the  lovely 
wild  country  with  her  sister  and  father,  for  Lord 
Orford,  in  spite  of  his  peculiarities,  was  warmly 
attached  to  his  babies  as  he  called  his  little  girls, 
and,  when  at  home,  spent  much  of  his  time  with  them. 

She  would  describe  old-world  Dorchester  and  its 
avenues  of  trees,  and  tell  how  enchanted  she  and  her 
sister  used  to  be  on  days  when  a  military  band  dis- 
coursed martial  music,  while  "  beautiful  officers  in 
still  more  beautiful  uniforms  "  delighted  their  youth- 
ful eyes.  In  the  cool  serenity  of  the  shortening  days 
there  were  walks  to  interesting  old  villages. 

The  country  folk  of  Dorset  were  then  quite  content 
to  :pend  all  their  life  where  they  had  been  born,  and 


LADY    DOROTHY    AND    LADY    RACHEL   WALPOLE 


OLD-WORLD  DORSET  9 

as  yet  only  a  faint  far-off  strain  of  London's  syren 
song  had  reached  their  unsophisticated  ears. 

"  Buttony,"  or  the  home  manufacture  of  worked 
buttons  after  designs  of  immemorial  pattern,  was  a 
flourishing  industry  and  many  quaint  local  ways  and 
customs  prevailed. 

Occasionally  there  were  visits  to  Weymouth. 

Of  this  watering-place,  then  sunk  in  something  of 
an  old-world  sleep,  my  mother  retained  the  most 
pleasant  recollections.  Some  ten  years  before  her 
death  when  on  a  visit  in  the  neighbourhood  she  was 
very  much  upset  to  find  that  a  famous  mulberry 
tree,  renowned  in  her  childhood  for  its  connection 
with  George  III,  had  been  wantonly  destroyed.  Pro- 
curing a  portion  of  its  wood  she  had  it  made  into 
a  little  footstool  upon  which  she  characteristically 
inscribed  how  the  mulberry  tree  "  was  planted  about 
the  time  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  when  so  many  refugees 
came  over  from  France  to  escape  persecution/'  "  This 
tree,"  she  added,  "  was  cut  down  by  vandals  in  1906 
to  make  way  for  the  new  Sailors'  Home.  Often  and 
often  has  King  George  III  taken  tea  under  its  branches 
and  this  stool  was  made  from  the  wood." 

In  after  life  as  a  true  lover  of  Dorset  she  warmly 
appreciated  the  works  of  Mr.  Thomas  Hardy  with 
whom  she  became  great  friends.  She  used  to  say 
that  the  West  Country  was  not  half  proud  enough  of 
having  produced  such  a  novelist,  and  declared  that 
the  county  families  were  too  stupid  to  appreciate  his 
genius  at  its  proper  worth. 

Life  at  Ilsington  was  now  and  then  enlivened  by 
little  social  festivities.  An  old  letter  speaking  of  a 
children's  ball  in  March,  1836,  says  that  my  mother, 
then  ten  years  old,  and  her  sister,  wore  their  hair 
braided  on  each  side  of  their  faces  covered  with  gold 
net,  which  style  had  a  strikingly  classical  effect.  The 
note  adds  "  that  they  had  white  figured  silk  bodices 
with  laced  stomacher  fronts,  muslin  skirts  and  white 
satin  shoes."     Ouite  an  elaborate  costume  for  those 


10  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

simple  days  when  little  money  was  spent  on  children's 
dress. 

Close  to  Ilsington  was  a  beautiful  little  Gothic 
manor-house,  Athelhampton  Hall.  In  my  mother's 
childhood  when  it  was  known  as  "  Admiston  "  it  was 
deserted  and  seemingly  ruined,  the  garden  a  wilder- 
ness through  which  cattle  roamed  right  up  to  the  door. 
She  had  been  very  happy  wandering  about  in  the 
grounds  of  this  old  house  as  a  child,  and  its  beauty 
had  impressed  her.  She  was  therefore  delighted  when 
a  friend  of  hers — M.  de  Lafontaine — having  purchased 
the  property,  put  the  house  and  grounds  in  order, 
while  showing  excellent  taste  in  preserving  everything 
that  was  picturesque. 

During  the  last  years  of  her  life  my  mother  always 
looked  forward  to  her  autumn  visit  to  this  country 
house,  the  sight  of  which  always  gave  her  the  shadow 
of  a  pleasant  thought. 

In  a  letter  to  a  friend  written  a  year  or  two  before 
her  death  she  said  : 

"  I  have  been  very  happy,  I  spent  some  time  in 
one  of  my  beloved  counties — Dorsetshire — very  near 
the  neighbourhood  of  Lady  Wimborne  who  was  to 
have  had  our  future  King  (Redmond)  down  to  speak 
on  Bank  Holiday,  but  of  course  he  could  not  come, 
but  wrote  to  say  he  was  sure  of  reconciling  our  dear 
Dorset  brethren  to  Home  Rule.  We  motored  every- 
where and  all  was  delightful. 

"  My  host  has  a  perfect  thirteenth-century  house  and 
he  has  carried  out  all  the  restorations  perfectly.  He  was 
sorely  perplexed  at  having  to  receive  Mr.  Lulu  Har- 
court,  but  after  a  time  he  opened  his  doors  to  him 
and  Mr.  Harcourt  was — being  a  man  of  taste — in  a 
word — enchanted. ' ' 

She  was  relieved  when  first  revisiting  the  village 
near  which  she  had  lived  as  a  child  to  find  that  the 
venerable  church  had  escaped  restoration,  and  still 
retained  the  three-decker  pulpit,  gallery,  and  old  oak 


A  QUAINT  OLD  CHURCH  11 

fittings  of  her  childhood's  recollection.  Her  old 
family  pew  remained  untouched,  though  Ilsington  had 
passed  into  other  hands. 

A  few  years  later,  however,  notwithstanding  protests 
from  my  mother,  her  friend,  Sir  Frederick  Treves  (an 
ardent  lover  of  old  Dorset) ,  and  of  others,  a  new  chancel 
was  added  and  the  Walpole  pew  swept  away. 

It  was  in  the  vestry  of  this  old  church  that  she 
found  covered  with  dust  and  rubbish  the  Hatchment 
of  George  Lord  Orford,  an  eccentric  ancestor  noted 
for  his  sporting  tastes. 

My  mother  had  many  recollections  of  the  old- 
fashioned  Dorset  parsons,  one  of  whom  she  remem- 
bered celebrating  service  with  top  boots  and  spurs 
scarcely  concealed  by  his  surplice. 

This  was  before  the  Oxford  movement,  which  in 
certain  ways  she  admitted  had  done  good. 

Though  not  very  much  attracted  by  the  methods  of 
the  extreme  High  Church  party  she  admired  the  whole- 
hearted self-sacrifice  of  many  of  our  modern  clergy. 

The  death  of  Father  Dolling  in  1902  caused  her 
real  grief. 

Writing  to  a  mutual  friend  she  said  : 

Tudor  Cottage, 

Haslemere. 

May  16,  1902. 
Oh  my  dear  Mr.  L., 

Are   you   not   in   despair   at   our   dear   father 
Dolling  being  gone  from  all  the  good  he  did  ? 

We  do  feel  so  very  unhappy,  such  a  good  man  and 
pleasant  companion,  it  is  all  too  sad.   Mr.  Harmsworth1 

sent  us  a  letter  in  which  poor  D had  asked  if  we 

could  help  towards  the  going  on  of  many  of  his  chari- 
ties, but  what  with  rates  running  on  every  hour — 
income  taxes,  etc. — I  could  only  promise  to  give 
donation  of  £5,  and  I  am  sure  you  cannot  do  much — 

1  Now  Lord  Northcliffc. 


12  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

but  it  is  ridiculous  to  think  they  can  collect  £175  a 
month  from  private  sources  when  we  are  all  just 
going  to  be  comfortably  installed  in  the  workhouse. 
I  came  here  to-day  to  enjoy  the  country,  one  perpetual 
downpour — but  the  tulips  quite  lovely.  Do  let  me 
hear  from  you. 

Yours  truly, 

D.  Nevill. 

My  mother  probably  derived  her  great  vivacity 
from  the  tinge  of  French  blood  in  her  veins. 

Her  ancestor,  the  1st  Lord  Walpole,  of  Wolterton, 
though,  like  his  brother,  Sir  Robert,  a  sturdy  Nor- 
folkian,  married  a  Frenchwoman,  Marie  Magdalene 
Lombard,  the  daughter  of  Pierre  Lombard,  a  wealthy 
Protestant  merchant  and  refugee,  who  had  fled  from 
Nimes  at  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes. 

Old  Pierre  Lombard,  after  settling  in  England, 
bought  land  in  Norfolk  and  blossomed  out  as  Peter 
Lombard,  Esq.  His  daughter,  who  it  is  said  was 
very  ugly,  had  a  considerable  amount  of  brains,  some 
of  which  undoubtedly  descended  to  my  mother. 

On  the  maternal  side  the  latter  was  a  great  grand- 
daughter of  Sir  Edward  Fawkener,  or  Falkener,  k.b. 

The  latter,  born  in  1684,  claimed  Norman  descent 
(motto,  "  Gare  le  faucon  "),  but  his  immediate  ancestors 
had  been  intimately  connected  with  the  City  of 
London,  many  of  them  being  described  in  his  pedigree 
as  "  cits  and  mercers.5' 

Perhaps  this  accounted  for  my  mother's  great  love 
of  London — though  she  had  a  strong  sentimental 
affection  for  Norfolk,  her  real  home  was  always  town. 
"  What  a  mercy  to  get  back  !  "  was  almost  invariably 
her  first  remark  on  returning  from  a  trip  to  the  country. 

Sir  Everard  Fawkener  prospered  exceedingly,  and 
successively  became  Secretary  to  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land, Ambassador  to  the  Porte,  and  Postmaster- 
General.  He  had  a  long  correspondence  with  Voltaire, 
who  was  his  guest  for  a  year  or  two  at  his  house  in 


THE  FAWKENER  FAMILY  13 

Wandsworth,  where  the  great  philosopher  wrote 
several  of  his  works,  and  dedicated  Zaire  to  his 
host.  The  latter  died  in  1758,  and  his  monument  is 
in  Bath  Abbey  Church. 

His  wife,1  Harriet,  daughter  of  General  Charles 
Churchill,  afterwards  married  Governor  Pownall.  Her 
son,  William  Augustus  Fawkener  (born  1747),  my 
mother's  grandfather,  was  a  captain  in  the  3rd  Guards, 
Envoy  Extraordinary  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  Minister 
Plenipotentiary  to  Lisbon  and  Florence.  He  was  also 
Clerk  to  the  Privy  Council.  He  was  a  friend  of 
Brummel,  whom  he  proposed  for  Brooks's,  and  fought 
a  duel  in  Hyde  Park,  22nd  May,  1786,  with  the  Hon. 

1  Her  epitaph  is  a  typical  and  amusing  specimen  of  the  effusive 
style  popular  in  the  age  in  which  she  died.  It  is  inscribed  upon  her 
monument  in  Lincoln  Cathedral,  and  is  supposed  to  have  been  written 
by  Horace  Walpole  : 

Here  is  Entombed 

Dame  Hariot,  Daughter  of  Lieut.  General  Churchill : 

Wife  in  her  first  Marriage  to  Sir  Everard  Fawkener, 

In  her  second  to  Governor  Pownall. 

She  dyed  Feb.  6th  1777  aged  51. 

Her  person  was  that  of  animated,  animating  Beauty, 

With  a  Complexion  of  the  most  exquisite  Brilliancy, 

Unfaded  when  she  fell. 

Her  understanding  was  of  such  quickness  and  reach  of  thought, 

That  knowledge,  Although  she  had  learning, 

Was  Instant  and  original. 

Her  heart  warm'd  with  Universal  Benevolence 

To  the  highest  degree  of  sensibility  : 

Had  a  ready  tear  for  Pity, 

And  glow'd  with  Friendship  as  with  a  sacred  and  Inviolate  fire. 

Her  love  to  those  who  were  blest  with  it 

was  happiness. 

Her  sentiments  were  correct,  refined,  elevated, 

Her  manners  so  Cheerfull,  elegant  and  Winning,  amiable, 

That  while  she  was  admired  she  was  beloved, 

And  while  she  Enlightened  and  Enliven 'd 

She  was  the  Delight  of  the  World  in  which  she  lived. 

She  was  formed  for  Life, 

She  was  prepared  for  Death  ; 

Which  being 

A  gentle  wafting  to  Immortality, 

She  lives 

Where  Life  is  real. 


14  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

John  Townshend,  whose  hat  he  pierced  with  a  ball, 
the  latter  firing  in  the  air. 

His  portrait  was  painted  by  Gainsborough.  He  "was 
a  good-looking  man,  and  like  some  other  good-looking 
men  of  his  age  he  was  supposed  to  have  been  on 
exceedingly  good  terms  with  Catherine  the  Great  of 
Russia,  during  his  diplomatic  career  at  St.  Petersburg. 
Anyhow  she  gave  him  a  miniature  of  herself  (now  in 
the  possession  of  Colonel  Walpole)  as  well  as  a  piece 
of  jewellery  set  with  diamonds. 

My  mother's  early  years  were  passed  with  those 
who  brought  recollections  of  the  eighteenth  century 
into  conjunction  with  people  and  changes  of  a  later 
day.  I  used  frequently  to  ask  her  if  old  times  were 
really  very  different  from  modern  ones.  She  always 
said  that  if  really  put  to  it,  she  must  confess  that 
there  was  not  much  difference,  the  main  change,  she 
thought,  was  the  marked  decadence  in  the  respect  for 
ceremony  and  etiquette.  Writing  on  this  subject  she 
said  : 

"  The  world  moves  so  smoothly  and  the  social 
changes,  great  as  they  are,  develop  so  imperceptibly, 
that  although  my  memory  carries  me  back  to  the  days 
when  railways  were  not,  and  gas  was  looked  upon  as 
a  daring  and  dangerous  innovation,  the  years  seem  to 
have  been  comparatively  uneventful.  Yet,  in  their 
day  numbers  of  things  seemed  important  enough  and 
interesting  enough.  I  suppose  one  gets  blase,  or 
philosophical,  or  something  dreadful  as  the  years  go 
on.  The  one  thing  that  I  have  learned  in  a  long  life 
is,  that  nothing  that  the  world  can  give  is  half  as 
delightful  as  the  sense  of  freshness  and  the  capacity 
for  enjoyment,  which  are  the  privilege  of  youth.  The 
lapse  of  time  brings  experience — often  of  much  that 
one  would  rather  not  have  known — but  even  that 
which  is  worth  knowing  is  bought  dearly  enough.  But 
I  must  not  moralize.    Life  is  too  short  for  sermonettes." 

She  had  seen  enormous  changes.    The  world  of  her 


SOCIAL  CHANGES  15 

childhood  knew  neither  the  telephone  nor  the  electric 
light,  railways  were  in  their  infancy,  and  the  motor- 
car and  airship  undreamt  of  as  practical  possibilities. 

The  telegraph  was  unknown,  for  only  in  1844,  after 
an  experiment  across  the  Thames  at  Somerset  House, 
did  Professor  Wheatstone,  in  conjunction  with  Mr. 
Cooke,  lay  down  the  first  working  line  on  the  Great 
Western  Railway  from  Paddington  to  Slough. 

The  gulf  between  1826) — the  date  of  her  birth — 
and  now  is  almost  as  big  as  that  with  the  Middle  Ages. 
In  one  material  respect  this  year,  in  which  came  into 
being  the  first  instalment  of  our  present  system,  "  the 
Stockton  and  Darlington  Railway,"  may  be  said  to 
have  been  the  starting-point  of  the  development  of 
modern  England.  This  (for  those  days)  wonderful 
triumph  of  engineering  skill  aroused  little  enthusiasm 
in  her  home  circle,  her  father  remaining  to  the  last 
days  of  his  life  a  bitter  and  uncompromising  enemy  of 
railways,  so  much  so  that  till  his  death  in  the  late 
fifties  he  continued  to  drive  up  to  town  from  Norfolk 
in  a  post-chaise.  He  was  but  one  of  many  of  his 
class  who  abominated  the  new-fangled  form  of  loco- 
motion. 

"  What  "  (said  a  contemporary  writer,  speaking  of 
a  projected  line  to  Woolwich)  "  can  be  more  palpably 
ridiculous  than  the  prospect  held  out  of  locomotives 
travelling  twice  as  fast  as  stage-coaches  ?  We  should 
as  soon  expect  the  people  of  Woolwich  to  suffer  them- 
selves to  be  fired  off  upon  one  of  Congreve's  ricochet 
rockets  as  trust  themselves  to  the  mercy  of  such  a 
machine  going  at  such  a  rate.  We  will  back  old 
Father  Thames  against  the  Woolwich  Railway  for  any 
sum.  We  trust  that  Parliament  will,  in  all  railways 
it  may  sanction,  limit  the  speed  to  eight  or  nine  miles 
an  hour." 

In  addition  to  this,  railroads  were  denounced  as 
eyesores  likely  to  ruin  the  beauty  of  the  country-side. 
This,  however,  was  also  mere  prejudice.  As  has  been 
justly  pointed  out  the  straight  lines  piercing  the  round- 


16  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

ing  landscape  are  essentially  poetic,  and  there  is  some- 
thing stimulating  in  a  steam-sped  train  which,  straight 
as  thought  and  swift  as  hope,  cleaves  the  country  to  a 
single  point.  There  is  indeed  a  good  deal  of  romance 
connected  with  steam. 

From  an  intellectual  point  of  view,  railways  certainly 
made  people  move  mentally  as  well  as  physically  with 
more  rapidity,  which  perhaps  was  the  reason  why 
people  fond  of  old-fashioned  ways  dreaded  the  new 
form  of  locomotion,  and  why  a  number  of  great  land- 
owners did  all  that  they  could  to  keep  it  away  from 
their  estates. 

Vaguely  but  clearly  the  old  English  nobility  foresaw 
that  every  so-called  improvement  tended  to  impair 
the  privileges  they  and  their  ancestors  had  enjoyed. 

The  aristocracy  were  at  that  time  still  pretty  firmly 
seated  in  the  saddle.  Peers  wielded  great  political 
influence,  while  not  at  all  disposed  to  truckle  to  any- 
one who  tried  to  curb  it.  The  old  conquering  master- 
ful "  do  as  I  like  "  spirit  still  animated  most  of  them 
and  scarcely  one  would  ever  have  dreamt  of  taking 
up  "  the  not  so  bad  after  all  "  attitude  which  has  on 
occasion  been  apologetically  assumed  by  certain 
noblemen  in  modern  days,  much,  it  must  be  admitted, 
to  the  prejudice  of  their  order. 

The  fear  of  public  opinion  which  now  exists  then 
had  little  influence  upon  the  upper  class.  There  were 
many  who  held  very  tenaciously  to  the  doctrine  that 
with  their  own  they  could  do  absolutely  as  they  willed. 
On  the  whole  they  were  not  so  narrow-minded  or  so 
stupid  as  might  appear  at  first  sight — quite  a  number 
of  these  old  autocrats  indeed,  in  a  sort  of  hazy,  dim 
way,  gauged  with  accuracy  the  great  turmoil  and 
social  unrest  which  must  follow  in  the  wake  of  a 
dominant  democracy. 

They  opposed  popular  education  because  they  did 
not  see  the  fun  of  teaching  people  of  inferior  grade 
to  dispense  with  their  rulers,  while  to  lower  the 
franchise  they  realized  was  merely  conniving  at  the 


A  TORY  PEER  17 

cutting  of  their  own  throats  and  the  end  of  the  old 
order. 

They  were  not  mistaken.  Already  in  the  thirties 
and  forties  the  spirit  of  what  the  modern  world  is 
pleased  to  call  Progress  made  its  influence  felt,  and 
soon  after  the  passing  of  the  great  Reform  Bill  a 
"  new  England  "  began  to  come  into  existence.  Old 
customs  and  ways  gradually  lost  their  hold  upon  the 
people  and  new  ideas  prevailed,  whilst  such  privileges 
as  the  upper  classes  enjoyed  became  subjects  of  com- 
ment and  criticism,  with  the  eventual  result  that  most 
of  them  went  by  the  board. 

To  the  end  of  his  life,  however,  my  mother's  father 
remained  an  uncompromising  opponent  of  all  innova- 
tions— according  to  his  simple  creed  a  Radical  was  a 
rascal  and  all  new-fangled  notions  bad. 

One  instance  of  his  uncompromising  Toryism  created 
great  amusement  throughout  Norfolk.  He  was  gifted 
with  a  sense  of  humour  which  often  made  itself  apparent 
when  replying  to  communications  from  public  officials, 
but  never  with  more  effect  than  when  having  been 
deprived  of  the  office  of  Lord  High  Steward  of 
Yarmouth  by  the  Liberal  Government,  he  wrote  : 

Gentlemen, — My  appointment  of  Lord  High 
Steward  of  Yarmouth  by  the  late  Government  was 
received  with  pride  and  pleasure.  My  dismissal  by 
the  present  Government  confers  almost  equal  honour 
upon 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Orford. 

For  the  canting  hypocrisy  which  unfortunately  is 
too  often  the  appanage  of  social  reformers  he  enter- 
tained the  greatest  loathing,  while  Societies  and 
Leagues  which  under  the  pretext  of  making  the  world 
better  meddle  with  other  people's  business  aroused 
his  bitter  ire. 

His  characteristic  reply,  said  to  have  been  sent  to 


18  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

the  President  of  the  Norwich  Bible  Society,  which 
invited  him  to  become  its  President  in  1824,  deserves 
quoting  : 

"  Sir, — I  am  surprised  and  annoyed  by  the  contents 
of  your  letter — surprised  because  my  well-known 
character  should  have  exempted  me  from  such  an 
application,  and  annoyed  because  it  compels  me  to 
have  even  this  communication  with  you. 

"  I  have  long  been  addicted  to  the  Gaming  Table. 
I  have  lately  taken  to  the  Turf.  I  fear  I  frequently 
blaspheme.  But  I  have  never  distributed  religious 
tracts.  All  this  was  known  to  you  and  your  Society. 
Notwithstanding  which  you  think  me  a  fit  person  to 
be  your  president.    God  forgive  your  hypocrisy. 

"  I  would  rather  live  in  the  land  of  Sinners  than 
with  such  Saints." 

Doubt  has  been  cast  upon  the  authenticity  of  this 
letter,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  pretty  accurately 
expressed  his  point  of  view. 

My  grandfather's  addiction  to  the  Turf  eventually 
cost  him  very  dear.  Beyond  winning  the  Two  Thousand 
Guineas  and  running  second  for  the  Derby  his  successes 
were  not  great  and  such  races  as  he  did  win  yielded 
but  a  very  poor  return  for  the  large  sums  of  money 
lost  or  spent. 

Nevertheless  he  was  far  from  having  been  a  stupid 
man ;  he  had  an  original  mind  and  possessed  a  full 
share  of  rather  cynical  humour.  This  was  never 
exercised  with  more  telling  effect  than  with  reference 
to  the  marriage  of  his  sister  Lady  Georgiana  Walpole 
— an  old  maid — with  Dr.  Joseph  Wolff. 

Dr.  Wolff  had  then  just  returned  from  the  then 
unknown  and  fanatical  city  of  Bokhara  into  which 
he  was  said  to  have  ridden  on  a  donkey  in  full 
canonicals  reading  the  English  Church  service. 

This  so  astonished  the  natives  that  deeming  him 
to  be  a  madman  (and  therefore  sacred)  they  spared 
his  life. 


QUEEN  VICTORIA'S  MARRIAGE  19 

Stories  of  Lord  Orford's  indifference  to  the  ordinary 
conventions  of  life  still  survive  in  Norfolk  ;  about 
the  most  amusing  of  these  is  the  legend  that  as  colonel 
of  the  West  Norfolk  militia,  when  an  attack  of  gout 
had  made  a  reposeful  position  imperative,  he  once 
drilled  his  regiment  from  a  fly. 

My  grandfather's  patriotism  amounted  to  prejudice 
and  he  professed  a  sublime  scepticism  of  any  excellence 
out  of  England.  Nevertheless  his  knowledge  of  the 
Continent  where  he  had  travelled  a  good  deal  was 
fairly  extensive — he  knew  something  of  Russia,  having 
when  Lord  Walpole  been  charge  d'affaires  at  Peters- 
burg during  Napoleon's  disastrous  Russian  campaign, 
he  had  also  passed  some  time  at  Vienna.  Here  accord- 
ing to  the  late  General  de  Horsey  he  had  an  interview 
(and  a  row)  with  the  famous  Venetian  adventurer, 
"  Casanova." 

He  strongly  disapproved  of  Queen  Victoria's  mar- 
riage to  a  German  Prince  and  remained  unfavourable 
to  him  long  after  Prince  Albert's  merits  had  been 
more  or  less  generally  recognized.  My  mother  used 
to  say  that  her  father  was  so  uncompromising  in  this 
dislike  that,  when  the  Prince  died,  he  put  on  a 
particularly  light  pair  of  check  trousers  ! 

In  this  antipathy  to  Prince  Albert  my  grandfather 
was  far  from  being  alone,  indeed,  intense  feeling  as 
regards  any  encroachment  beyond  the  Prince  Consort's 
strict  rights  prevailed  among  a  large  number  of  old- 
fashioned  people.  Writing  in  December,  1841,  a 
relative  (Edward  Walpole)  said  : 

"  I  am  quite  scandalized  at  the  Queen  wantonly 
postponing  the  baptism  of  the  infant  Prince  of  Wales 
until  the  Lord  knows  what  day  in  February.  She 
seems  to  forget,  or  to  be  ignorant,  that  baptism  is  a 
solemn  and  sacred  Sacrament  and  not  a  mere  Court 
Pageant.  A  sudden  convulsive  fit  may  occur  and  then 
what  will  she  not  have  to  answer  for  ?  Then  again 
as  to  Precedence — it  is  very  laudable  that  she  should 


20  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

be  attached  to  her  husband  and  show  him  all  due 
respect.  But  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  Heir  Apparent  to 
the  Crown  of  these  Realms — Prince  Albert  is  utterly 
without  any  position  in  the  State — therefore  that  he 
should  take  Precedence  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  is 
flagrantly  wrong  and  unjustifiable — at  least  such  are 
my  deliberate  sentiments — again  as  to  inserting  the 
Prince  of  Wales  by  name  in  the  liturgy,  previous  to 
his  having  been  baptised — this  is  inverting  the  proper 
order  of  things.  The  infant  Prince  was  already  prayed 
for,  as  one  of  the  Royal  Family,  but  after  not  before 
his  baptism,  should  his  name  have  been  inserted  in 
the  liturgy  and  in  that  as  in  all  other  instances  before, 
and  not  after,  that  of  Prince  Albert.  If  the  Queen 
does  not  know  right  from  wrong,  those  about  her 
should  set  her  right,  for  a  Sovereign  may  not  indulge 
in  whims  and  caprices  which  would  be  immaterial 
in  a  subject  of  private  station." 

Prince  Albert's  ideas  did  not  affect  the  English 
aristocracy  to  any  appreciable  degree.  Mr.  Gladstone 
once  said  to  a  friend  of  my  mother's,  "  It  was 
Prince  Albert  who  brought  German  into  fashion  in 
England." 

She  replied,  "  Never,  it  was  Carlyle  and  his  trans- 
lations of  Schiller  and  Goethe.  Prince  Albert  had  little 
or  no  influence  on  Society." 

My  mother  would  often  speak  of  her  father's  friends 
— many  of  them  old-fashioned  Englishmen  prone  to 
think  as  Shakespeare  wrote — strong-built  men  with 
falcon  eyes  and  deep  powerful  voices,  the  modulations 
of  which  they  knew  how  to  control  with  admirable 
effect. 

In  connection  with  this  subject  she  used  often  in 
her  latter  years  to  complain  of  the  defective  elocution 
of  the  younger  generation,  so  many  of  whom  accord- 
ing to  her  mumbled  and  ran  their  words  one  into  the 
other  in  the  most  irritating  and  slovenly  fashion. 
People  spoke  out  more  loudly  in  her  youth  and  she 


DECAY  OF  ELOCUTION  21 

maintained  that  modern  folks  were  inclined  to  speak 
in  tones  which  could  not  be  heard. 

Experts  I  believe  are  in  agreement  with  the  opinions 
which  my  mother  used  to  hold,  and  it  seems  a  great 
pity  that  elocution  does  not  form  part  of  the  curri 
culum  of  schools. 

She  herself,  it  may  be  added,  perfectly  understood 
how  to  use  her  beautifully  clear  voice  and  always  cut 
her  words  clean  and  sharp. 

Among  her  father's  great  friends  were  those  staunch 
supporters  of  the  Turf,  Admiral  Rous  and  George 
Payne — the  former  in  particular  was  a  fine  type  of 
the  old-fashioned  English  gentleman,  highly  honour- 
able and  straightforward,  full  of  common  sense,  yet 
not  devoid  of  prejudices.  Like  many  of  his  contem- 
poraries he  hated  tobacco,  the  smoking  of  which  he 
considered  almost  an  ungentlemanly  act.  Besides 
being  devoted  to  racing,  the  old  Admiral  would  never 
acquiesce  in  the  modern  view  of  cock-fighting,  which 
he  defended  to  the  end. 

Many  of  the  old  school  had  free  and  scathing  tongues 
which  they  did  not  hestitate  to  use  when  anything 
aroused  their  ire. 

The  modern  idea  of  compromising  about  everything 
likely  to  arouse  trouble — an  idea  which  certainly  con- 
tributed towards  destroying  the  power  of  the  English 
aristocracy — did  not  appeal  to  these  virile  men. 

Another  of  Lord  Orford's  friends  was  Lord  George 
Bentinck.  My  mother  never  lost  the  recollection  of 
his  voluminous  cravat  and  the  delicate  moulding  of 
his  hands,  which  were  perfect  in  form. 

Of  the  sporting  people  she  came  across  in  later 
years  she  always  said  that  Whyte  Melville  was  about 
the  most  attractive.  A  curious  whim  of  his,  according 
to  her,  was  an  extreme  unwillingness  to  be  considered 
a  man  of  letters.  He  did  not  care  for  his  novels — 
some  of  which  he  certainly  had  no  need  to  be  ashamed 
of — being  spoken  about  when  he  was  present. 

Owing  no  doubt  to  the  domestic  discomfort  pro- 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

duced  by  her  father's  love  of  the  Turf,  my  mother  in 
after  life  always  professed  the  greatest  dislike  for 
racing,  which  she  looked  upon,  not  entirely  without 
reason,  as  a  sure  and  certain  road  to  ruin.  Notwith- 
standing these  views,  which  she  would  express  in  a 
decided  though  amusing  manner,  she  never  belonged 
to  any  Leagues  or  Societies  for  curtailing  betting,  and, 
indeed,  did  not  scruple  to  laugh  at  any  movement  of 
the  kind,  well  knowing  the  futility  of  all  attempts  at 
drastic  repression  of  such  an  overwhelming  human 
instinct  as  speculation. 

On  occasion  she  would  even  cheerfully  attend  race 
meetings — though  she  never  pretended  to  take  the 
slightest  interest  in  the  proceedings  she  generally  con- 
trived to  extract  fun  out  of  some  humorous  incident 
or  other.  At  heart  she  regarded  racing  as  a  thoroughly 
nonsensical  way  of  getting  rid  of  cash,  and  I  think 
did  not  quite  understand  rational  people  getting 
pleasure  out  of  it. 

The  most  pleasant  recollection  she  retained  of  old 
racing  days  was  of  the  picturesque  costumes  of  old 
sporting  characters — the  white  beaver  hats  and  sky- 
blue  jackets  of  the  postilions  who  have  long  ridden 
away  for  ever,  and  the  Tom  and  Jerry  costumes  of 
her  father  and  his  sporting  associates.  Lord  Orford 
adhered  to  the  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons  through- 
out his  life — as  a  matter  of  fact  quite  a  number  of  the 
old  school  did  so  right  up  to  the  middle  of  the  nine- 
teenth century. 

Even  in  the  late  fifties  there  was  still  a  great  deal 
of  blue  coat  and  brass  button  in  the  House  of  Lords  ; 
there  was  also  a  strong  flavour  of  flat-soled  shoes,  like 
those  which  old  Lord  Redesdale  wore  for  thirty  years 
and  more.  This  footgear  indeed  was  as  closely 
identified  with  his  personality  as  was  his  swallow- 
tailed  blue  coat  with  brass  buttons,  white  necktie,  and 
shoes  tied  with  a  bow  of  black  silk  ribbon.  Nobody 
ever  saw  him  in  any  other  suit,  except  at  a  levee. 

At  that  time  many  members  of  Parliament  sported 


PARLIAMENTARY  COSTUMES  23 

rather  flamboyant  costumes  which  gave  notes  of  colour 
to  a  less  plebeian  House  of  Commons  than  that  of 
to-day. 

Lord  John  Russell's  appearance  was  a  sort  of  ba- 
rometer of  his  spirits.  When  things  were  going  well 
in  the  House  he  would  mount  the  yellowest  of  waist- 
coats and  glossiest  of  coats.  When,  however,  the 
political  outlook  was  gloomy  he  would  appear  night 
after  night  in  the  shabbiest  clothes,  until  something 
occurred  to  cheer  him  up,  when  he  would  suddenly 
leave  off  buttoning  up  his  coat  and  wear  clean  waist- 
coats. A  flower — a  yellow  one  generally,  but  not  a 
camelia — was  another  safe  sign  that  Lord  John  was 
in  a  good  humour. 

A  stranger  to  London  entering  the  House  of  Lords, 
it  was  said,  could  always  easily  pick  out  Lord  Brougham 
by  his  trousers,  invariably  made  of  shepherd  plaid. 
Rumour  declared  that  the  "  plaid  breeks  "  in  question 
were  first  donned  by  him  when  he  was  canvassing  the 
electors  of  Edinburgh,  during  which  period  a  manu- 
facturer of  the  neighbourhood  presented  him  with  a 
large  roll  of  a  new  design  of  tartan,  which  he  had 
brought  out.  It  was  a  piece  of  some  twenty  or  thirty 
yards,  all  of  which  Lord  Brougham  had  made  up 
into  a  practically  inexhaustible  store  of  trousers. 

At  Cannes,  where  he  was  much  respected,  his  hat, 
notorious  for  its  dilapidated  appearance,  was  a  positive 
source  of  bewilderment  to  the  natives,  who  could  not 
make  out  why  so  great  a  millionaire  should  persist  in 
wearing  a  headpiece  for  which  no  one  in  his  senses 
would  give  a  couple  of  centimes  ! 


CHAPTER  II 

Continental  travel  in  the  forties— Anecdotes— Florence— Watts  as  a 
young  man— The  Villa  Mathilde— Rome  under  Papal  rule— Cardinal 
Giuseppe  Zacchia— The  charm  of  Venice— The  late  Lord  Lovelace- 
Letters— Lord  Hertford— Sir  Richard  Wallace— Lady  Rachel  Walpole 

Introduction  of  the  Polka — Fashionable  amusements  of  the  past — 

Dwakanauth  Tagore— His  letter— A  country  marriage  in  1848— 
Strange  pets — Samuel  Rogers  and  his  breakfasts — The  Exhibition  of 
!85i — The  vanished  glories  of  Hyde  Park. 

IN  the  early  forties  of  the  last  century  my  mother 
went  a  long  trip  on  the  Continent  with  her  parents. 
They  took  with  them  their  own  horses  and 
carriages,  a  cook  and  a  courier.  This  was  in  the  days 
when  almost  every  Rhine  steamer  had  an  English 
state  travelling  carriage  upon  its  forward  deck  with  an 
English  "  Milor  "  and  his  family  inside  and  English 
servants  in  the  rumble  behind.  Very  few  railways 
had  been  made,  and  palatial  hotels  were  undreamt  of. 
She  herself  rode  a  grey  mare,  seventeen  hands  high, 
called  Testina,  on  account  of  her  small  head.  Testina 
was  the  daughter  of  her  father's  racehorse  "  Clearwell," 
winner  of  the  Two  Thousand  Guineas.  My  mother 
used  to  describe  this  trip  as  having  been  mainly  one 
of  splendid  misery  owing  to  the  wretched  accommo- 
dation which  travellers  then  found  on  the  Continent. 
Her  father,  torn  between  the  two  conflicting  passions 
of  a  love  of  artistic  surroundings  and  an  uncontrollable 
fondness  for  the  Turf,  was  always  changing  his  arrange- 
ments. The  innkeepers  and  almost  all  the  natives, 
considering  an  English  "  Milor  "  fair  game,  indulged 
in  every  sort  of  petty  plunder.  Lord  Orford  tried  to 
defeat  them,  but  all  in  vain,  for  every  man's  hand 
seemed  to  be  perpetually  in  his  pocket.  When  the 
party  left  the  house  they  had  taken  at  Rome,  its 

24 


TRAVELLING  IN  THE  FORTIES  25 

owner,  an  old  Marquis,  was  so  anxious  to  get  all  he 
could  out  of  them  for  damages  that  he  knelt  down  on 
the  carpets  to  count  the  grease  spots. 

At  that  time  professional  beggars  fairly  swarmed 
and  such  charitable  institutions  as  existed  relied  a 
good  deal  for  support  upon  travellers.  One  of  the 
institutions,  wishing  to  proclaim  its  toleration,  had 
the  following  appeal  posted  up  at  its  entrance  : 

"  Appele  to  the  Charitable.  The  Brothers,  so  called 
of  Pity,  solicit  alms  for  the  Hospital.  They  harbour 
all  kinds  of  diseases  and  have  no  respect  for  Religion." 

Those  were  the  days  when  innkeepers  and  trades- 
men on  the  Continent  reaped  a  rich  harvest  from 
English  visitors,  who,  in  return  for  their  money,  too 
often  got  execrable  accommodation  and  indifferent 
food. 

Travellers  went  abroad  prepared  for  all  sorts  of  dis- 
comfort and  outside  the  great  European  capitals  were 
glad  to  get  anything  really  tit  to  eat — a  very  different 
state  of  affairs  from  1914,  when  the  English  abroad 
expected  to  find  all  their  usual  comforts.  A  traveller 
was  even  heard  to  speak  in  a  very  disparaging  manner 
about  Verona,  which  he  denounced  as  the  sort  of  place 
where  you  couldn't  get  a  decently  cooked  mutton 
chop  ! 

In  the  middle  of  the  last  century  even  the  best 
hotels  lacked  most  of  what  are  now  considered  ordinary 
comforts. 

Heating  was  not  understood,  and  in  cold  weather 
visitors  went  to  bed  early  in  order  to  escape  the 
draughts  of  cold  air  which  abounded  in  the  cheerless 
rooms.  Sleep  was  too  frequently  unobtainable — 
travellers  being  tormented  by  fleas,  and  often  kept 
awake  by  bad  music  intended  as  a  serenade  and 
aroused  before  daybreak  by  the  noise  in  the  streets. 

Bathrooms  were  unheard  of  even  at  the  best  hotels, 
and  at  times  the  most  fastidious  were  of  necessity 
obliged  to  belong  to  the  "  great  unwashed  " — at  the 


26  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

smaller  inns  the  means  of  ablution  were  often  limited 
to  a  little  warm  water  brought  in  a  milk  jug  ! 

Many  irksome  regulations  then  hampered  tourists 
on  the  Continent,  chief  among  them,  the  tedious  and 
complicated  formalities  connected  with  luggage  and 
the  passport  nuisance. 

My  mother  had  a  vivid  recollection  of  many  hours 
spent  roasting  in  the  hot  sun,  with  the  prospect  of 
an  ultimate  coup  de  soldi,  waiting  for  her  pass- 
port. Meanwhile  the  crowd  kept  imprecating  the 
authorities,  and  grumbling  at  the  delay. 

The  postal  regulations  designed  to  prevent  petty 
smuggling  were  tiresome  in  the  extreme. 

In  1844  she  nearly  involved  an  old  lady  in  very 
serious  trouble  through  innocently  begging  her  to 
take  a  sealed  packet  to  her  sister,  then  staying  at 
Mayence.  In  this  little  parcel  were,  amongst  other 
things,  four  pairs  of  Tyrolean  gloves,  then  much  in 
fashion,  which  nearly  caused  the  arrest  of  the  poor 
lady  on  the  Belgian  frontier.  The  officials  threatened 
the  most  frightful  penalties,  amongst  them  a  fine  of 
£50,  for  attempting  to  smuggle  a  lesser  number  of  pairs 
of  gloves  through  the  Customs  than  the  Belgian  law 
allowed — the  regulation  being  that  nothing  under  a 
dozen  pairs  could  be  carried  by  travellers  without 
liability  to  a  very  severe  penalty. 

In  fairness  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  authorities 
had  to  be  on  their  guard,  for  many  attempts  were 
made  to  smuggle  things  and  defraud  the  Customs. 

All  sorts  of  stratagems  were  employed.  A  lady, 
anxious  to  smuggle  a  clock,  under  her  crinoline  for 
instance,  gave  her  clock-maker  minute  directions  to 
fix  the  alarum  apparatus  so  that  it  would  not  strike, 
but  the  man,  being  something  of  a  wag,  set  the  alarum 
at  the  moment  he  knew  the  lady  would  reach  the 
Custom-house.  On  her  arrival  at  the  Custom-house, 
with  the  timepiece  fastened  to  her  hoops,  the  officer 
having  found  nothing  contraband  among  her  effects, 
was  passing  ■on  to  the  next  traveller,   when  a  loud 


MUNICH  27 

wh-r-r-r  was  heard  under  the  lady's  skirts.  The 
strange  noise  was  kept  up  for  the  full  space  of  a 
minute  ;  but  to  the  lady  it  seemed  an  hour,  and  she 
became  tremulous  and  excited.  The  Custom-house 
officer  for  once  was  rather  puzzled,  not  daring  to  lay 
hands  on  a  woman,  "  save  in  the  way  of  kindness." 
Finally,  however,  he  obtained  an  iron  rod,  with  which 
he  eventually  succeeded  in  bringing  down  the  con- 
cealed clock. 

The  number  of  small  States  in  Italy  and  Germany, 
most  of  them  with  their  own  peculiar  regulations, 
rendered  travelling  especially  tedious. 

Opportunities  for  communicating  with  friends  in 
England  were  extremely  limited.  At  Munich,  for 
instance,  foreign  residents  were  practically  dependent, 
so  far  as  correspondence  was  concerned,  upon  our 
Minister  or  upon  stray  travellers  passing  through  the 
city.  Unfortunately  for  those  fond  of  sending  and 
receiving  letters  the  postal  arrangements  on  the 
Continent  were  very  inadequate,  while  the  English 
Minister  had  very  little  to  communicate  to  the  Foreign 
Office  at  home,  and  only  sent  a  bag  of  dispatches  about 
once  a  month.  The  arrival  of  an  English  visitor  was, 
in  those  days,  quite  an  event  in  the  old  Bavarian  city. 

With  her  parents  my  mother  made  quite  a  long 
stay  at  Munich,  where  a  certain  homely  simplicity 
then  pervaded  existence. 

Lady  Orford  and  her  little  girls  made  great  friends 
with  a  number  of  the  residents  and  the  latter  often 
went  to  the  palace  of  King  Ludwig  and  became  great 
friends  with  the  children  of  Prince  Charles  of  Bavaria, 
one  of  whom  became  the  ill-fated  Empress  of  Austria. 

In  after  years,  when  the  latter  was  assassinated, 
my  mother  wrote  to  a  friend  :  "  That  poor  Empress  ! 
In  old  days — very  old  days  when  we  stayed  at  Munich 
— we  as  children  used  to  play  with  these  Princesses  as 
they  had  an  English  governess,  a  Miss  Newbolt." 

My  mother  remembered  how  the  aristocracy  of 
Munich   had   a   strong   antipathy   to   allowing   their 


28  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

servants  to  sleep  in  their  houses,  the  consequence  of 
which  was  that  ladies,  on  returning  from  some  grand 
party  or  other  in  a  gorgeous  carriage  with  two  footmen 
behind,  dressed  in  rich  liveries  and  hats  loaded  with 
plumes  and  feathers,  used  to  descend  from  their 
chariots,  light  their  solitary  night-lamps  from  the 
flambeaux  of  their  departing  footmen,  and  then  sadly 
creep  to  bed  amidst  the  dismal  solitude  of  a  dark 
mansion. 

During  this  voyage  abroad  my  mother's  governess, 
Miss  Redgrave,  a  most  talented  woman,  kept  a  diary, 
cleverly  illustrated  in  water-colours,  which  is  excellent 
reading. 

The  point  of  view  from  which  it  is  written,  however, 
is  totally  different  from  that  taken  by  travellers  of 
to-day.  Almost  anything  the  writer  saw  impressed 
her,  and  she  wrote  quite  poetically  of  much  which  the 
modern  tourist,  whose  memory  is  too  often  merely  a 
kaleidoscope,  scarcely  deigns  to  notice.  Romance,  as 
it  existed  in  those  days,  has  almost  faded  away — 
fairies,  ghosts,  goblins,  and  ghouls  vanished  with  the 
advent  of  the  telegraph  and  the  railway  train. 

In  those  days  Continental  travel  was  still  an  event 
and  not  a  habit,  while  the  patronizing  tourist  who 
thinks  he  is  conferring  an  honour  on  any  country  he 
deigns  to  visit  was  yet  unknown. 

The  ubiquitous  German  who  before  the  war  denied 
so  many  pleasant  places  was  also  non-existent,  but 
a  few  adventurous  visitors  from  the  New  World  were 
occasionally  seen. 

For  the  most  part,  they  were  regular  Yankees  of  the 
old  school,  whose  quaint  expressions  and  comments 
were  calculated  to  create  amusement. 

One  rather  boastful  American  was  told  at  Naples  : 

"  Anyhow,  you've  not  got  such  a  volcano  as 
Vesuvius  in  your  country." 

"  No,  perhaps  not,"  replied  the  undefeated  Yank, 
"  but  we've  Niagara  which,  I  guess,  would  darned 
soon  put  it  out !  " 


OLD-WORLD  TRAVELLERS  29 

Old-world  travellers  felt  more  interest  than  we  in 
sites  connected  with  historical  events,  and  an  exagger- 
ated sense  of  romance  inspired  their  apprecia- 
tion of  superb  scenery  :  mere  ordinary  mountains, 
valleys,  or  lakes,  unhallowed  by  legend,  often  won 
nothing  but  a  passing  glance. 

Half  the  interest  they  felt  in  Switzerland  was  from 
association  with  the  name  of  William  Tell ;  they  gazed 
with  pleasure  at  certain  parts  of  the  lake  of  Geneva, 
because  they  recalled  the  story  of  Julie  and  St.  Preux  ; 
while  the  Castle  of  Chillon — little  trumpery  fortress 
as  it  is — threw  them  into  an  ecstasy  on  account  of  its 
celebrated  prisoner  and  his  historian,  Lord  Byron. 
Chambery  was  dear  to  them  because  of  its  connection 
with  Madame  de  Warens  and  Rousseau,  while  "  Les 
Charmettes  "  excited  their  sympathy  by  the  halo  of 
genius  and  misfortune  which  hallowed  the  spot. 

To  the  keeper  of  this  diary,  going  from  town  to 
town  was  about  as  much  of  an  adventure  as  a  journey 
to  Central  Africa  would  be  to-day.  The  shadow  of 
vague  danger  was  always  in  the  writer's  mind. 

Unlimited  discomfort  and  worries  abounded. 

At  the  same  time,  while  rich  travellers  were  un- 
mercifully fleeced  on  the  Continent,  it  was  possible  for 
English  people  of  moderate  means  to  live  well  at 
certain  places  with  quite  extraordinary  economy. 
My  mother,  for  instance,  remembered  having  met  an 
English  family  who  lived  in  a  great  house  near  Bruges, 
with  ten  acres  of  land,  kept  three  servants  and  two 
horses,  gave  big  dinner-parties  every  two  months,  and 
enjoyed  all  the  luxuries  of  life  on  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  a  year. 

Bruges — "  la  morte  " — has  charmed  many  a  sympa- 
thetic English  visitor  with  the  sweet  silence  of  its 
restful  seclusion,  and  the  old  Belgian  city,  then 
wrapped  in  an  apparently  eternal  slumber,  entirely 
captivated  my  mother's  fancy.  Years  later,  in  her 
old  age,  she  went  and  spent  some  ten  days  there 
alone. 


30  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

In  the  course  of  her  travels  in  the  forties  she 
and  her  family  passed  a  winter  at  Florence,  settling 
down  in  a  lovely  but  somewhat  dilapidated  old  palace 
(the  Palazzo  St.  Clemente),  the  former  residence  of  the 
Countess  of  Albany,  who  lived  as  the  wife  of  the  poet 
Alfieri  after  the  death  of  her  first  husband,  Charles 
Edward,  the  young  Pretender,  whose  initials  and 
portrait  in  medallions  were  conspicuous  everywhere — 
even  the  weathercocks  outside  bore  his  monogram. 

Speaking  of  this  time,  my  mother,  in  a  description 
which  she  wrote  of  the  small  parties  which  Lady 
Orford  gave,  said  : 

"  I  remember  Mrs.  Trollope,  the  novelist,  and  her 
gifted  son,  the  late  Mr.  Hallam,  the  historian,  and  las 
son,  the  Comtesse  Ricci  and  her  charming  daughter, 
who  afterwards  married  Count  Potoski,  afterwards 
ambassador  in  London,  and  the  Prince  and  Princess 
Demidoff,  of  whom  we  saw  a  great  deal.  She  was 
Princess  Mathilde,  daughter  of  Jerome,  King  of 
Holland,  and  had  the  beautiful  features  of  her  uncle, 
the  first  Napoleon,  as  well  as  an  irresistibly  charming 
manner.  They  had  a  most  lovely  villa,  the  Villa 
Mathilde,  where  I  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  with  them 
and  the  father  of  the  Princess." 

Princess  Mathilde's  husband  was,  in  his  way,  a  most 
original  character,  with  an  inordinate  love  of  playing 
practical  jokes.  So  great  was  his  reputation  for  this 
form  of  amusement,  that  when  his  wife  received  the 
news  of  his  death,  she  treated  it  as  a  hoax.  It  was, 
however,  no  joke  this  time,  for  death  of  which  the 
Prince  had  often  made  sport  had  now  made  sport  of 
him.  He  once  made  a  number  of  doctors  in  Vienna 
absolutely  furious  by  an  extraordinary  prank.  He 
sent  to  each  of  the  doctors  separately,  requesting  them 
to  visit  him  and  report  upon  some  disease  from  which 
he  pretended  he  was  suffering.  About  a  score  of 
medicos  obeyed  the  summons,  and  each  one  of  them 
gave  him  a  written  opinion  on  his  complaint.    As  he 


WATTS  AS  A  YOUNG  MAN  31 

expected,  they  were  all  different — no  two  of  them 
agreed.  This  was  exactly  what  the  Prince  wanted. 
He  called  all  the  doctors  together  in  a  body,  read  their 
conflicting  opinions  to  them,  set  them  all  by  the  ears, 
and  laughed  in  their  faces. 

My  mother  also  went  a  good  deal  to  the  house  of  the 
British  Minister  and  his  wife,  Lord  and  Lady  Holland. 

A  letter  written  at  this  time  says  : 

14,  South  Audley  Street,  W. 
The  Hollands  are  much  occupied  with  Lady  Orford 
and  her  daughter,  Lady  Dorothy,  the  prettiest,  most 
captivating  little  creature  I  ever  beheld.  "  Fun  in 
her  eye  and  mischief  in  all  her  thoughts."  The  only 
day  I  was  out,  she  rode  up  to  me  with  General  Ellice, 
hung  over  with  flowers,  a  large  straw  hat  with  a  red 
ribband  round  it  and  a  bunch  of  peacock's  feathers  on 
the  side  of  it.  Her  habit  quite  open  and  little  gaunt- 
lets, to  be,  as  she  said,  like  the  Life  Guards.  We  were 
all  enchanted  with  her. 

At  the  Hollands'  it  was  that  Mr.  Watts,  then  quite 
a  young  man,  met  my  mother  with  the  result  that  he 
painted  a  portrait  which  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the 
most  successful  and  beautiful  of  all  his  works. 

Even  as  a  young  man  Mr.  Watts  took  art  very 
seriously.  It  was  by  his  skill  as  an  artist  in  black  and 
white  at  Florence  that  he  first  attracted  the  notice 
of  several  amateurs,  Lord  Holland  amongst  them, 
who  became  his  patrons.  The  first  work  of  any  im- 
portance which  marked  him  out  as  a  remarkable  painter 
seems  to  have  been  a  painting  in  fresco  on  the  walls  of 
a  courtyard  appertaining  to  the  Villa  Carreggi,  a  short 
distance  from  Florence  on  the  road  to  Fiesole.  In  the 
days  of  the  Medici  this  villa  was  tenanted  by  a  doctor 
who  was  suspected  of  having  poisoned  one  of  the 
family.  Watts  pictured  the  summary  vengeance 
wreaked  by  the  retinue  of  the  nobleman  on  their 
victim,  representing  him  as  being  dragged  by  half  a 


32  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

dozen  Italian  foot-soldiers  and  thrown  down  the  deep 
well  in  the  centre  of  the  courtyard.  A  few  yards  away 
stood  the  stately  figure  of  a  monk,  his  right  hand 
holding  a  long  crucifix,  his  left  hand  raised  as  if 
striving  to  move  the  group  of  assassins.  The  whole 
was  admirably  painted,  but  even  in  the  fifties  it  was 
beginning  to  fade  from  exposure  to  the  weather,  and  it 
has  now  probably  disappeared. 

The  friendship  which  she  had  formed  as  a  girl  with 
Mr.  Watts  my  mother  kept  up  all  her  life.  She  often 
went  to  see  him  at  Old  Little  Holland  House  and  would 
recall  with  pleasure  its  low-thatched  porch,  sunny 
lawn,  and  miniature  pond.  The  delightful  sense  of 
peaceful  calm  which  reigned  throughout  the  frescoed 
rooms  lingered  in  the  mind  of  all  who  had  enjoyed  it. 
Old  Little  Holland  House,  however,  with  the  build- 
ing of  Melbury  Road,  disappeared,  a  sacrifice  to  the 
Moloch  of  commercialism,  when  Mr.  Watts,  devoted 
to  the  recollections  of  his  old  home,  built  almost  upon 
the  same  site  another  peaceful  abode  which  he  called 
by  the  same  name. 

Here,  ever  indifferent  to  most  of  the  earthly  things 
which  the  mass  of  men  prize,  he  continued  to  work, 
as  he  had  always  done,  for  the  mere  joy  of  working. 
He  never  forgot  the  pleasant  days  in  Florence  and  the 
people  he  had  known  there  ;  of  my  mother  he  was 
especially  fond,  and  in  his  last  years  whenever  they 
met,  no  matter  how  large  the  party,  he  would  step 
forward  and  embrace  her. 

After  leaving  Florence  my  mother  and  her  parents 
went  on  to  Rome,  which  was  then  under  the  temporal 
rule  of  Pope,  Cardinals,  and  Priests.  In  old  age  she 
recalled  with  pleasure  the  mediaeval  and  picturesque 
carriages  and  dresses  of  that  vanished  regime. 

Of  the  then  Governor  of  Rome,  Cardinal  Giuseppe 
Zacchia,  she  cherished  delightful  memories.  This  kind 
old  friend  quite  took  her  under  his  care,  evincing  his 
affection  for  the  little  Protestant  English  girl  by 
giving  her  a  rosary  of  mother-o'-pearl  and  silver  beads 


THE  CHARM  OF  VENICE  33 

which  he  had  worn  constantly  for  fifteen  years,  and 
also  had  a  silver  locket  made  for  her,  within  which 
were  relics  of  St.  Joseph,  his  patron  saint,  and 
St.  Dorothy. 

During  this  visit  to  the  Eternal  City  she  saw  the 
Roman  carnival,  which  was  supposed  to  be  so  gay. 
Immense  crowds  (at  least  immense  for  those  days) 
and  a  perpetual  shower  of  confetti  and  battered 
flowers  constituted  its  main  attractions.  The  people 
of  Rome,  however,  enjoyed  it  all  immensely,  and  a 
young  lady  said  to  her  :  "If  Paradise  be  half  as 
delightful  as  the  carnival,  what  can  be  so  happy  ?  " 
Some  English  people,  however,  said  it  was  more  like 
Purgatory  ! 

The  Rome  of  that  day  was  in  many  respects  totally 
different  from  what  it  is  to-day.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  real  charm  of  Rome  is  not  its  immutability  but  the 
opposite.  It  is,  indeed,  a  city  of  Eternal  Change  and 
as  such  appeals  to  every  generation  in  turn. 

The  portion  of  the  trip  which  my  mother  loved  best 
was,  I  think,  her  sojourn  at  Venice  where,  as  may  be 
read  in  her  Reminiscences,  she  saw  many  interesting 
people  and  things. 

To  glide  through  the  shadow  of  crumblingjmagnifi- 
cence  and  muse  over  the  old  city's  splendid  past  was 
then  a  landmark  in  every  traveller's  memory. 

The  sumptuous  palaces — the  superb  portraits  of 
Titian — Tintoretto  and  Giorgione  appealed  to  her 
innate  sense  of  the  picturesque  and  the  significance  of 
Venice  ever  lingered  in  her  mind. 

In  those  days  traditions  of  Byron  were  still  current 
there  and  in  these  she  took  the  warmest  interest,  for 
she  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  that  poet  whom  she 
liked  next  best  to  Pope. 

In  later  years  she  became  a  friend  of  Byron's 
grandson,  the  late  Lord  Lovelace,  for  whom  she  had 
the  greatest  esteem.  He  was  a  man  of  high  intel- 
lectual qualities,  as  his  privately  circulated  book, 
Astarte,  dealing  with  the  cause  of  the  estrangement 

3 


34  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

between  Lord  and  Lady  Byron,  shows.    When  sending 
my  mother  a  copy  he  wrote  : 

Ockham  Park, 

Ripley,  Surrey. 

December  31,  1905. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy  Nevill, 

Your  very  kind  reception  of  my  offering — as  an 
antidote  to  Xmas  displeasures — makes  me  not  less 
anxious  to  go  and  see  you  as  soon  as  possible,  which 
I  fear  cannot  be  till  February,  as  we  are  to  stay  here 
quite  another  month — being  so  unpolitical  that  I 
think  we  shall  wait  till  after  the  meeting  of  the  new 
parliamentary  pack.  The  moment  I  know  the  day  of 
moving  to  London  I  will  write  and  ask  what  afternoon 
I  may  call  and  hear  all  you  can  tell  me  about  the 
interests  of  the  great  world — giving  you  in  exchange 
the  meagre  news  of  a  recluse. 

The  book  is,  as  an  old  friend  writes,  one  to  read 
with  a  heartache,  and  the  events  recorded  have 
been  a  sorrowful  inheritance  for  more  than  one 
generation.  The  tragic  secret,  or  half  secret,  was  all 
the  more  painful  for  that  sort  of  half  mystery  which 
combined  the  evils  of  a  secret  with  those  of  revelation. 
I  always  felt  the  facts  should  have  been  made  known 
by  those  who  could  have  done  so  at  least  40  years 
ago.  The  duty  was  clear  to  me,  but  I  could  not  like 
having  to  undertake  it  myself.  However,  I  am  thank- 
ful that  it  has  been  executed,  and  I  hope  as  effectually 
as  was  possible. 

This  morning,  between  7.30  and  8,  we  had  one  of 
the  rosiest  dawns  I  ever  saw — warm  and  glowing  to 
the  eye,  but  bitterly  cold  though  so  lovely.  Even  now 
there  is  singular  charm  in  out-of-door  scenes  in  the 
country,  and  I  shall  regret  them  when  we  go  away, 
though  longing  to  see  a  number  of  old  and  new  friends. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 
Lovelace. 


THE  LATE  LORD  LOVELACE  35 

Though  the  literary  merits  of  Astarte  are  con- 
siderable, it  is  perhaps  questionable  whether  the 
writer  was  altogether  judicious  in  reviving  a  contro- 
versy belonging  to  another  age.  Be  this  as  it  may,  his 
talents  were  generally  admitted  and  in  conjunction 
with  a  very  charming  disposition  endeared  him  to 
everyone  fortunate  enough  to  be  his  friend. 

Writing  at  the  time  of  Lord  Lovelace's  death,  the 
late  Lady  Dorchester  said  : 

"  How  kind  and  good  of  you,  dear  Dorothy,  to 
think  of  and  write  to  me  just  now  !  It  is  indeed  a  sad 
affliction  to  lose  so  good,  generous,  and  never-failing 
friend  as  dear  kind  Lord  Lovelace  !  Few  know  so  well 
as  I  do  what  were  his  really  valuable  qualities,  his 
cultivation  of  mind,  his  unselfishness,  and  kindness  of 
heart,  for  my  experience  of  him  was  carried  on  for 
so  many  years  under  exceptional  circumstances.  .  .  . 
How  I  shall  miss  him  !  I  have  no  one  left  now  to  take 
the  interest  in  pursuits  he  and  I  had  in  common  with 
the  addition  of  unfailing  personal  friendship  !  Lady 
Lovelace  wrote  to  me  at  once,  poor  broken-hearted 
woman  !  they  were  so  devoted  to  one  another — she 
ends  her  letter  saying,  '  you  must  love  me  now  for 
his  sake  '  .  .  .  touching,  is  it  not  ?  .  .  .  I  feel  for  her 
beyond  words." 

Many  other  towns  besides  Venice  were  visited  by 
my  mother  during  this  mid-Victorian  stay  on  the 
Continent.  Several  weeks,  for  instance,  were  passed 
at  Vicenza,  then  in  the  occupation  of  Austria,  whose 
brilliant  cavalry  officers  seized  every  opportunity  of 
taking  the  young  English  Milady  for  rides. 

My  mother,  on  her  return  to  England,  came  out 
and  was  initiated  into  the  delights  of  the  London 
season.  She  did  not,  however,  have  the  liberty  which 
young  ladies  enjoy  to-day.  A  young  lady  could  not  go 
in  a  cab  or  stroll  unaccompanied,  while  it  was  hardly 
considered  proper  for  her  to  walk  past  the  big  bow- 
window  at  White's,  filled  with  the  dandies  of  the  day. 


36  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

My  mother  well  remember  her  father  telling  the 
governess  to  take  care  that  her  sister  and  herself, 
when  going  down  St.  James's  Street,  should  walk  on 
the  other  side  of  the  road. 

Though  she  was  taught  to  avoid  this  window  full 
of  rakes,  young  and  old,  she  was  taken  occasionally, 
as  a  little  girl,  to  parties  given  by  one  of  the  worst 
of  the  whole  lot — the  3rd  Earl  of  Hertford,  Thackeray's 
Lord  Steyne,  a  pleasure-loving  old  reprobate,  who 
gave  entertainments  at  his  house  in  St.  John's  Wood. 
With  this  nobleman  seems  to  have  expired  the  quaint 
office  of  Warden  of  the  Stannaries,  which  no  one 
seems  ever  to  have  heard  of  since.  His  son,  the 
fourth  Marquis,  a  great  collector,  who  lived  a  good 
deal  abroad,  was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  mother's 
brother,  the  late  Lord  Orford,  and  was  fond  of 
telling  him  how  necessary  it  was  not  to  neglect 
the  interests  of  one's  family  no  matter  how  much  one 
might  differ  from  them.  This  principle,  with  curious 
inconsistency,  he  proceeded  to  affirm  by  leaving  almost 
everything  he  could  to  Sir  Richard  Wallace  instead 
of  to  his  successor,  the  fifth  Marquis. 

The  exact  reasons  which  led  the  4th  Marquis  of 
Hertford  to  bequeath  a  vast  fortune  and  magnificent 
collection  of  pictures  and  objets  d'art  to  Sir  Richard 
Wallace  remain  obscure.  During  the  lifetime  of  Lord 
Hertford,  Mr.  Wallace,  as  Sir  Richard  then  was,  acted 
merely  as  a  sort  of  intimate  secretary,  being  known  as 
"  Monsieur  Richard." 

Many  people,  including  my  mother,  laboured  under 
the  impression  that  the  5th  Lord  Hertford  lost  a 
fortune  by  refusing  to  respond  to  overtures  of  friend- 
ship tendered  to  him  by  Sir  Richard  Wallace. 

The  latter  never  made  any  such  overtures,  and  there- 
fore Lord  Hertford  never  could  have  repulsed  them, 
neither  did  Mr.  Richard  ever  show  the  slightest  desire 
to  be  on  good  terms  with  the  family. 

The  statement  that  the  loss  of  the  inheritance 
which  had  been  alienated  from  him  was  to  be  attributed 


LADY  RACHEL  WALPOLE  37 

to  any  action  on  the  part  of  the  5th  Lord  Hertford  or 
his  family  is  according  to  unimpeachable  authority 
totally  out  of  accordance  with  facts. 

Though  Lord  Orford  was  a  veritable  martinet  in 
some  things  he  allowed  his  daughters  to  enjoy  all 
the  delights  of  the  London  season  and  my  mother  had 
dances  and  balls  to  her  heart's  content. 

It  was  quite  fashionable  to  make  up  parties  to  go 
to  Vauxhall.  Not  many  years  before  her  death  she 
wrote  :  "  I  recollect  dancing  a  quadrille  at  Vauxhall 
with  a  fop  of  the  gay  world,  the  late  Lord  Mayo  being 
my  partner — we  often  went  to  Vauxhall,  a  gay  party, 
and  sometimes  to  the  other  alfresco  entertainments, 
but  a  magnificent  fete  once  there  ended  in  a  complete 
failure  ;  but  I  have  passed  many  a  pleasant  night  at 
Vauxhall,  in  illuminated  caverns,  and  gipsies  telling 
one's  fortunes.  Another  delightful  rendezvous  was  the 
Coliseum,  London,  by  night  so  attractive.  All  these 
are  gone  never  to  be  again." 

At  a  fashionable  dancing  school  held  at  Almack's 
my  mother  learnt  dancing.  Here  the  teacher  was 
Madame  Michau,  whom  she  described  as  "a  most 
extraordinarily  plain  '  humpy '  little  woman,  from 
whom  one  would  have  expected  nothing,  and  yet  in 
showing  off  her  figures  she  was  the  very  perfection 
of  grace,  and  elicited  boundless  and  well-deserved 
admiration  from  her  pupils." 

My  mother's  sister,  Lady  Rachel  Walpole,  was  one 
of  the  first  young  ladies  in  England  to  dance  the  polka. 
Though  now  more  or  less  out  of  fashion,  this  dance 
formerly  enjoyed  a  great  popularity.  It  originated  in 
1831,  when  it  is  said  a  young  peasant  girl  of  Elbe  Teinitz, 
in  Bohemia,  performed  a  dance  of  her  own  invention 
one  Sunday  afternoon  for  her  special  delectation,  and 
sang  a  suitable  tune  to  it.  The  schoolmaster,  Joseph 
Neruda,  who  happened  to  be  present,  wrote  down  the 
melody,  and  the  new  dance  was  soon  after  publicly 
performed  for  the  first  time  in  Elbe-Teinitz.  About 
1835,   it  made  its  entrance  into   Prague,   and   then 


38  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

obtained  the  name  of  Polka,  probably  from  the  Czech 
word  Pidka,  or  half,  referring  to  its  half-step. 

On  its  introduction  into  London  the  new  step 
created  quite  a  sensation. 

At  Mrs.  Spencer  Stanhope's  ball  in  the  late  thirties 
of  the  last  century  a  deputation  of  ladies  begged  the 
hostess  about  three  in  the  morning  to  allow  the  polka 
to  be  danced,  as  there  were  six  ladies  in  the  room  who 
understood  it.  Permission  having  been  accorded,  the 
six  (one  of  whom  was  my  mother's  sister)  stepped  out 
with  their  partners,  all  of  them,  curiously  enough, 
dressed  in  black,  which  caused  people  to  say  it  was  a 
chimney-sweeps'  dance.  Extraordinary  excitement 
was  created  by  the  innovation,  Lady  Jersey,  the 
Duchess  of  Bedford,  and  numbers  of  other  fine  ladies 
clambering  up  on  chairs  and  benches  to  get  a  good 
view.  Lady  Rachel  was  then  just  out  of  the  school- 
room, and  had  recently  married  Lord  Pollington,  son 
of  Lord  Mexborough.  She  adored  dancing,  her  love 
of  which  may  be  realized  when  it  is  stated  that  the 
night  before  her  only  son,  Lord  Mexborough,  was  born, 
she  was  at  Lady  Salisbury's  dance  in  Arlington  Street 
till  one-thirty  and  her  son1  was  born  at  three  ! 

A  visit  to  the  theatre  in  her  girlhood  (my  mother 
used  to  say)  was  not  the  mere  casual  distraction  it  is 
to-day,  but  quite  a  serious  adventure. 

She  and  her  sister,  she  remembered,  were  accustomed 
to  be  sent  to  bed  for  two  or  three  hours  in  the  afternoon 
in  order  to  rest  before  the  excitement  of  witnessing  a 
dramatic  performance. 

The  crush  room  was  then  a  social  institution  of  some 
importance  resembling  an  informal  evening  party. 

Directly  the  opera  was  over  the  fashionable  portion 
of  the  audience  at  once  adjourned  to  a  hall  arranged 
for  people  to  wait  in  whilst  their  carriages  were  being 
fetched,  and  here  the  gay  world  would  linger  generally 
for  at  least  an  hour. 

About  this  time  she  saw  many  people  whose  names 

1  The  late  Lord  Mexborough,  who  died  in  191 6. 


LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL,  AS   A  (URL,   HER  SISTER    LADY    POLLINGTON 

AND  CHILD 


DWAKANAUTH  TAGORE  39 

have  now  become  more  or  less  historical.  She  remem- 
bered Lady  Blessington  driving  about  London  in  a 
barouche  with  her  head  apparently  muffled  up  in  a 
turban,  and  she  met  Count  D'Orsay  at  one  of  the 
"  breakfasts "  which  were  then  popular,  and  could 
recall  his  brown  coat  and  tight  pantaloons.  Bernal 
Osborne  has  left  a  compact  description  of  this  dandy's 
dress  : 

A  coat  of  chocolate,  a  vest  of  snow, 
Well  brush'd  his  whiskers,  as  his  boots  below  ; 
A  short-napp'd  beaver,  prodigal  in  brim, 
With  trousers  tightened  to  a  well-turned  limb. 

My  mother  and  her  sister  made  great  friends  with 
one  of  Count  D'Orsay's  sitters,  Dwakanauth  Tagore, 
one  of  the  first  Indian  gentlemen  to  visit  England,  who 
became  a  popular  figure  in  London  society  at  that 
time.  He  took  a  great  fancy  to  my  mother  and  her 
sister,  giving  them  both  presents  of  coral  charms. 

St.  George's  Hotel. 
September  27,  1845. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

How  kind  it  was  of  you  to  write  me  a  few  lines 
in  your  sister's  letter  to  me  which  I  received  during 
my  late  visit  to  Ireland  and  which  I  will  keep  as  a 
memorial  of  your  goodness  to  one  who  has  experienced, 
I  must  say,  so  much  kindness  in  England. 

The  Naple's  [sic]  charms  have  at  last  reached  me 
here  and  I  have  the  great  happiness  to  hand  them 
over  to  your  sister  with  a  request  that  they  may  be 
forwarded  to  you,  and  which  I  hope  may  reach  you 
safe  and  that  you  will  be  charmed  with  them. 

I  will  be  all  October  in  London  and  then  take  my 
continental  journey. 

What  are  you  going  to  do  all  winter  ?  I  dare  say 
I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  some  day  a£ 
Florence  or  Rome. 

I  may  not  trust  myself  to  write  more  in  English  and 


40  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

fear  you  would  not  understand  my  native  language — 
Bengalesc — otherwise  would  have  been  gratified  to  have 
intruded  with  a  much  longer  note  than  this  poor 
attempted  one. 

Pray  remember  me  kindly  to  Lord  and  Lady  Orford. 
I  am  sorry  that  I  was  not  in  town  when  they  did  me 
the  honour  to  call  as  I  found  their  card  on  my  return. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

(Sgd.)    DWAKANAUTH   TAGORE. 

P.S. — On  calling  at  your  Sister  I  find  she  has  gone 
somewhere  in  the  country  and  will  return  in  a  week, 
so  I  must  keep  the  charms  with  me  until  her  arrival 
in  town.  T. 

Dwakanauth  Tagore,  it  will  be  seen,  was  quite  a 
cosmopolitan ;  his  portrait  was  one  of  the  most 
successful  executed  by  Count  D'Orsay. 

The  old  school  then  exercised  a  great  influence  in 
keeping  up  the  ceremonious  ways  and  usages  of  a 
past  era. 

The  present  generation  with  its  more  slipshod  if 
more  natural  ways  can  scarcely  realize  the  formalities 
which  formerly  permeated  the  social  life  of  the  old 
English  aristocracy. 

One  of  the  last  and  greatest  supporters  of  these 
was  the  old  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  Lord  Rosebery's 
mother,  and  an  extremely  clever  woman.  In  an 
invitation  sent  to  my  mother  by  the  old  Duchess 
when  she  was  over  ninety  years  old  she  mentions 
eight  as  the  hour  "  in  which  we  have  the  habit  of 
dining." 

In  1848  my  mother  married.  Lord  and  Lady  Orford 
had  always  seen  a  good  deal  of  their  kinsman,  Mr. 
Reginald  Nevill  (whose  mother  was  a  Walpole),  and  in 
due  course  he  was  accepted  by  their  youngest  daughter. 

My  mother's  father-in-law,  the  Hon.  George  Nevill, 
belonged  to  the  eighteenth  century  ;  he  had  been  born 
in  1760.    At  one  time  master  of  the  old  Surrey  Fox- 


A  COUNTRY  MARRIAGE  IN  1848  41 

hounds  he  resided  at  Flower  Place,  Godstone,  and  had 
known  Mrs.  Thrale,  who  lived  not  very  far  away,  quite 
well. 

In  due  course  the  wedding,  which  was  carried  out 
quite  in  the  old  style,  took  place  at  Wolterton,  the 
marriage  ceremony  being  performed  in  Wickmere 
Church,  Norfolk. 

The  following  description  reads  curiously  to-day 
when  brides  seldom  exhibit  anything  but  extreme 
composure.  "  At  two  we  all  assembled  for  luncheon 
in  the  great  hall,  and  at  half-past  the  carriages  came 
round.  They  looked  so  gay  with  favours  and  large 
bunches  of  China  asters  all  over  the  harness,  the 
coachmen  with  bouquets  and  flowers  on  the  whips. 
I  went  in  the  family  coach  and  four  with  the  Bride 
and  her  Mother.  At  the  Park  gates  was  an  evergreen 
arch  with  flowers,  a  broad  one  at  the  Church  gate 
and  flowers  all  along  the  carpeted  path  thro'  the 
Churchyard.  All  the  school  children,  116,  had  favours 
— all  the  tenants  too — and  the  poor  of  the  three  villages 
crowded  the  Church  and  Churchyard.  The  Church 
was  decked  with  the  old  velvet  hangings  of  the  private 
chapel,  and  looked  very  well,  but  it  was  so  full  that 
even  the  pulpit  and  reading-desk  were  crammed,  and 
the  people  standing  on  the  seats  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  bridal  party  made  a  rushing  and  rustling  more 
zealous  than  decorous — until  silence  was  obtained,  the 
buzzing  ceased  and  the  ceremony  began.  Lord  O. 
had  a  hard  struggle  for  composure  and  Mr.  Nevill 
of  course  dropped  the  ring,  Dorothy  was  very  com- 
posed till  the  end,  but  when  Lord  Orford  kissed  and 
blessed  her  she  burst  out  crying,  and  cried  all  through 
the  kissing  and  signing — Lady  P.1  cried  too,  but  Lord 
P.  was  very  joyous,  and  whispered  his  wishes  to  be 
married  and  kissed  and  blessed  over  again,  not  desir- 
ing to  change  the  object.  Lady  P.  distributed  the 
favours  to  the  wedding  party  which  of  course  were 
worn  all  day. 

1  Lady  Pollington,  sister  of  Lady  D.  N. 


42  LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 

Before  setting  out  for  Burnham  Thorpe,1  where  the 
honeymoon  was  to  be  passed,  there  was  a  sort  of 
"  wedding  breakfast  "  or  rather  "  tea  "  quaintly 
described  as  follows  : 

"  The  cake  was  duly  cut  by  the  bride — speeches, 
toasts,  and  all  quite  orthodox.  Poor  Lord  O.  struggled 
and  spoke  only  a  few  very  fond  kind  words.  Mr. 
Nevill,  agitated,  returned  thanks  very  neatly,  but  in 
so  low  a  voice  that  he  could  scarcely  be  heard.  Then 
there  was  coffee  at  half-past  8,  the  carriage  and  four 
came  to  the  door  to  convey  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
away,  luckily  all  tears  at  parting  were  turned  into 
laughter  by  Dorothy's  coming  in  to  take  leave  with 
her  dog  in  her  arms  rolled  up  in  her  discarded  flannel 
petticoat — the  strings  of  which  hung  down,  plainly 
showing  what  it  was.  She  went  off  as  she  had  declared 
she  would  with  the  dog,  the  cat,  and  other  pets — a 
perfect  menagerie. 

"  They  had  forgotten  in  the  bustle  to  ask  the  poor 
dear  old  retired  housekeeper,  but  Dorothy  would  have 
her  fetched  to  see  her  go  off,  and  to  stay  supper 
and  eat  cake  and  wine.  We  had  her  up  in  the  saloon, 
and  made  so  merry  with  the  good  creature." 

The  pets  mentioned  above  included  one  or  two 
reptiles.  My  mother's  tastes  in  this  line,  indeed,  were 
almost  as  singular  as  those  of  the  great  Scotch  advocate 
Lord  Erskine,  who  in  addition  to  a  favourite  goose 
and  a  favourite  macaw,  kept  two  pet  leeches  which 
he  asserted  had  saved  his  life  when  he  was  dangerously 
ill! 

Among  the  letters  of  congratulation  my  mother 
received  on  her  marriage,  there  was  none  she  treasured 
more  than  that  from  Samuel  Rogers,  the  banker  poet, 
of  whose  little  wizened  figure,  blue  coat  and  nankeen 
waistcoat  she  ever  retained  a  vivid  recollection.  The 
old  man  was  very  fond  of  her.    In  his  beautifully  neat 

1  See  p.  8i. 


SAMUEL  ROGERS  43 

little  handwriting  he  wrote  to  her  mother  (October  14, 

1847)  : 

My  dear  Lady  Orford, — I  have  thought  of  nothing 
else  since  I  received  what  gave  me  so  much  pleasure. 
May  they  be  happy  to  the  last  moment  of  their  lives  ! 

Yours  ever  and  ever, 
S.  Rogers. 

With  this  letter  he  sent  a  finely  bound  copy  of  his 

Italy. 

Rogers  was  a  queer  character.  Kept  a  prisoner  in 
his  chair  by  the  infirmities  of  his  great  age,  he  has 
been  pictured  at  ninety  as  feeding  the  love  of  the 
beautiful,  which  was  a  passion  with  him,  by  "  delight- 
ing to  watch  the  changing  colours  of  the  evening  sky 
from  a  window  facing  the  Green  Park." 

As  a  poet  he  should  perhaps  not  be  ranked  very 
high.  His  conversation,  seasoned  with  anecdote  and 
occasional  sarcasm,  gained  for  him  a  peculiar  place 
in  society,  which  his  poetry  alone  would  scarcely  have 
done.  Even  in  extreme  old  age  his  intellectual  faculties 
remained  very  alert;  it  is  said  that  distrusting  his 
memory  he  never  ventured  upon  an  anecdote  without 
a  caveat  as  to  having  told  it  before. 

Rogers  was  a  good  judge  of  art,  and  after  his  death 
his  collection  brought  noble  prices  :  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  fate  which  overtook  those  gathered  together  by 
a  brother  in  the  Muses,  Savage  Landor. 

The  latter  before  he  left  England  sent  his  collection 
of  pictures,  which  had  acquired  a  kind  of  reputation, 
to  Mr.  Capes,  of  Manchester,  for  sale.  Landor  had 
picked  his  pictures  up  in  Italy,  fancying  himself  as 
clever  a  connoisseur  as  Rogers.  Landor's  collection, 
however,  sold  for  insignificant  prices.  In  short,  the 
average  price  of  each  picture — pictures  bearing  the 
noblest  names  of  art — was  under  ten  shillings  ! 

The  cookery  at  St.  James's  Place  was  reputed  to  be 
superlative. 

Rogers  attributed  his  long  life  to  slow  eating  and 


44  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

he  was  ahead  of  his  age  in  understanding  the  laws  of 
health.  Meeting  a  friend  who  declared  himself  to  be 
a  great  sufferer  from  indigestion,  the  banker  poet  said, 
"  Come  and  dine  with  me  to-day,  and  you  will  find 
out  what  you  ought  to  eat."  The  meal  consisted  of 
most  genial  and  nutritive  meats,  with  no  harsh  fibre 
left,  but,  as  the  host  remarked,  half  digested  in  the 
cooking. 

A  number  of  ingenious  mechanical  contrivances 
enabled  the  beautiful  works  of  art  to  produce  the 
very  best  effect. 

At  dinner,  for  instance,  contrary  to  the  usual 
custom,  there  were  no  candles  or  lamps  upon  the 
table,  the  room  being  softly  illuminated  by  wall  lights, 
which  at  the  same  time  lit  up  the  pictures. 

Almost  as  celebrated  as  his  dinners  were  Rogers's 
breakfasts,  to  which,  at  one  time  or  another,  came 
most  of  the  prominent  literary  and  artistic  celebrities 
of  that  day. 

It  was  at  these  breakfasts  that  my  mother  met 
Count  D'Orsay  and  heard  Tom  Moore  sing  "  When 
first  I  saw  thee  "  in  a  most  expressive  manner — a 
memory  which  remained  with  her  to  the  end  of  her 
life. 

Where  one  has  been  very  young  and  very  happy 
there  is  always  something  of  it  left ;  and  certain  places 
make  the  dear  past  seem  so  near,  one  can,  as  it  were, 
almost  reach  out  one's  hand  and  touch  it.  A  feeling 
of  this  sort  made  my  mother  delight  to  revisit  her 
childhood's  haunts,  and  she  was  consequently  very 
pleased  when  she  heard  that  Lord  Northcliffe,  for 
whose  cleverness  and  energy  she  entertained  a  very 
warm  admiration,  had  taken  Rogers's  old  house, 
22  St.  James's  Place. 

Three  years  after  her  marriage  my  mother,  while 
visiting  the  great  exhibition  of  185 1  with  Charles 
Greville,  the  writer  of  the  famous  diaries,  narrowly 
escaped  being  crushed  to  death.  It  was  the  last  day 
before  the  closing  and  she  got  caught  in  the  crowd, 


THE  EXHIBITION  OF  1851  45 

and  being  a  very  small  woman  would  certainly  have 
been  seriously  injured,  had  not  a  friendly  official 
thrust  her  into  his  little  pay-box  and  thus  ensured 
her  safety. 

She  perfectly  remembered  the  sensation  caused  by 
this  Exhibition,  which  for  some  mysterious  reason  was 
supposed  to  be  the  inauguration  of  an  era  of  perpetual 
peace. 

Though  it  did  not  produce  this  very  desirable  result 
it  did  something  else  which  was  to  completely  alter 
the  character  of  Piccadilly  which  previous  to  1851 
had  been  mainly  a  fashionable  lounge. 

Owing  however  to  the  crowds  attracted  to  Hyde 
Park  by  the  Exhibition,  the  old  street  became  changed 
into  a  busy  thoroughfare  which  it  has  remained  ever 
since. 

The  decadence  of  Hyde  Park  from  a  social  and 
sartorial  point  of  view  took  longer  to  bring  about. 

In  the  sixties  and  seventies  the  Park  at  certain 
hours  was  thronged  with  well-dressed  people  and  re- 
garded as  the  particular  domain  of  aristocratic  society. 

Well  into  the  eighties  and  in  some  instances  later 
gentlemen  continued  to  ride  in  Rotten  Row  in  top 
hat,  frock  coat,  blue  trousers  with  a  stripe  down  the 
side  and  straps.  There  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
any  reason  for  the  abandonment  of  this  exceedingly 
smart  costume  except  the  modern  love  for  a  sort  of 
affected  slovenliness. 

Hyde  Park  was  still  in  its  full  glory  in  the  seventies 
when  my  mother  used  to  drive  her  two  beautiful 
ponies  there. 

What  grooms  !   what  gallant  gentlemen  ! 

What  well-appointed  hacks  ! 
What  glory  in  their  pace,  and  then 

What  beauty  on  their  backs  ! 

A  rigid  code  then  regulated  social  life.  In  mid- 
Victorian  times  to  smoke  in  the  streets  was  bad,  but 
to  smoke  in  the  Park  was  a  serious  social  crime. 


46  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  first  gentleman  to  defy  this  unwritten  law, 
according  to  my  mother,  was  the  grandfather  of  the 
present  Duke  of  Sutherland,  who,  to  the  astonishment 
of  his  friends,  one  day  boldly  walked  in  the  Park  with 
a  cigar  between  his  lips — an  unconventional  act  which 
created  quite  a  sensation. 

The  Park  is  still  popular,  but  its  aristocratic  atmo- 
sphere exists  no  more.  Modern  sartorial  plebeianism 
has  destroyed  its  old  distinction  and  the  motley  crowd 
which  now  frequents  the  Row  from  a  decorative  point 
of  view  cannot  be  compared  with  the  courtly  troop 
which  long  since  rode  away  for  ever. 

The  "  democratic  spirit  "  indeed,  has  successfully 
obliterated  most  remains  of  social  elegance  and  the 
transient  supremacy  of  the  dandies  belongs  only  to 
the  past. 


CHAPTER    III 

A  Hampshire  home — Country  house-parties  of  the  past — Sir  William 
Harcourt — Sir  Charles  Butt — Sir  Alexander  Cockburn — Mrs.  Sartoris 
and  Tennyson — Bishop  Wilberforce — Anecdotes — Archdeacon  Wilber- 
force — Delane — Mr.  Calcraft — Darwin — Professor  Mivart — Church 
restoration — Old  Lady  Featherstonhaugh — Sir  William  Hooker — 
Frank  Buckland  and  silkworm  culture — Green  wood — Muscology — 
Life  in  the  country — Book  illumination. 

IN  185 1  my  father,  the  late  Mr.  Reginald  Nevill, 
bought  the  Dangstein  estate  which  lay  between 
Midhurst  and  Petersfield,  in  Hampshire.  The 
house  had  been  built  for  Captain  Lyons  by  Mr. 
Knowles,  who  had  made  an  attempt  to  construct  a 
sort  of  huge  Grecian  temple. 

One  of  the  chief  reasons  which  caused  the  purchase 
of  Dangstein  was  my  father's  love  of  farming  which 
he  had  taken  up  after  his  marriage  in  the  place  of 
the  coaching  and  racing  of  his  bachelor  days.  He 
managed  his  estate  very  successfully  and  like  the 
majority  of  the  landlords  in  Sussex  and  Hampshire 
(the  greatest  character  amongst  whom  was  old  Lord 
Leconfield,  "  The  King  of  West  Sussex  "  as  he  was 
called)  got  on  very  well  with  his  tenants.  But  there 
were  bad  landlords  too — men  whose  attitude  recalled 
that  aspect  of  free  competition  defined  by  Sam  Weller 
as  : 

"  Each  for  himself  and  God  for  us  all,  as  the  donkey 
said  when  he  danced  among  the  chickens." 

On  the  whole,  however,  the  landed  gentry  were  not 
unpopular.  For  the  most  part  they  were  then  people 
with  comparatively  simple  tastes.  Even  a  well-to-do 
landowner  was  quite  content  to  live  the  greater  part 
of  the  year  on  his  estate,  amusing  himself  with  the 

47 


48  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

sport  which  satisfied  the  moderate  desires  of  those 
days.  If  he  had  not  a  house  in  town,  he  hired  one  for 
three  months  or  so,  when  he  would  bring  up  his  wife 
and  daughters  for  the  season.  He  entertained,  as  a 
rule,  very  modestly,  and  held  views  as  to  expenditure 
which  in  1914  would  have  aroused  contemptuous 
criticism.  The  season  over,  the  family  would  return 
to  the  country,  there  to  remain  until  the  following 
year. 

The  "  week-end  "  visit  which  has  since  become  a 
regular  social  institution  was  unknown,  and  when 
visitors  came  to  stay  it  was  for  what  would  now  be 
considered  an  unconscionable  length  of  time. 

Parties  were  arranged  long  beforehand,  the  guests 
being  carefully  selected  so  that  their  tastes  and 
sympathies  might  be  in  thorough  accord. 

Such  parties  were  usually  limited  to  eight  or  ten 
except  at  certain  seasons  when  tradition  prescribed 
a  larger  number. 

The  amusements  provided  in  addition  to  sport  were 
simple.  Certain  rigorous  conventions  existed — for 
instance,  smoking  indoors  except  in  the  harness-room 
or  servants'  hall  after  the  ladies  had  retired  was  rarely 
tolerated.  Gambling  for  high  stakes  was  practically 
unheard  of. 

With  the  end  of  the  century  came  a  change  in 
country-house  parties  which  often  became  so  large 
that  they  would  have  been  greatly  improved  by  being 
broken  in  several  pieces. 

The  close  intimacy  of  old-fashioned  country-house 
life  naturally  ceased  when  over  a  score  of  people,  some 
of  whom  were  meeting  for  the  first  time,  assembled 
together.  In  fine  weather  everything  was  well  and 
good,  but  when,  as  was  bound  to  happen  in  this 
capricious  climate,  the  weather  was  inclement,  an 
atmosphere  of  depression  was  apt  to  prevail. 

"  Outside  driving  rain — inside  nothing  but  bridge 
and  foolish  talking  "  was  how  a  clever  friend  of  my 
mother's  described  one  of  these  wet  "  week-ends." 


COUNTRY  HOUSE-PARTIES  49 

At  Dangstein  my  father  used  to  entertain  a  good 
deal,  and  most  of  the  prominent  people  of  the  mid- 
Victorian  era  were  visitors  there. 

My  mother  was  always  very  catholic  regarding 
her  guests.  She  herself  was  a  strong  Conservative, 
but  my  father's  political  opinions  leaned  towards 
Liberalism — he  would,  however,  have  had  nothing  in 
common  with  the  advanced  Radicals  of  a  later  day. 

A  constant  visitor  at  Dangstein  was  Sir  William 
Harcourt. 

On  one  occasion  while  shooting  there  he  gave  my 
father  a  regular  lecture  on  the  lack  of  rabbits  and  hares 
which  in  moderation  Sir  William  declared  did  no  sort 
of  harm  to  the  crops.  Nevertheless  shortly  afterwards 
he  introduced  the  Hares  and  Rabbits  Bill  and  talked  a 
great  deal  in  Parliament  about  the  enormous  destruc- 
tion done  to  crops  by  such  vermin. 

This  made  my  father  extremely  savage  and  he 
would  cite  it  as  an  instance  of  the  devious  methods 
which  prevailed  in  political  life.  Latterly  indeed  he 
became  disgusted  with  all  politicians. 

The  Law  was  generally  well  represented  at  Dang- 
stein, a  frequent  visitor  having  been  the  late  Sir 
Charles  Butt,  a  most  agreeable  man  who  died  com- 
paratively young  to  the  great  regret  of  a  host  of  friends. 

Another  man  of  the  same  stamp  who  in  later  years 
became  a  great  friend  of  my  mother's  was  Sir  George 
Russell,1  of  Swallowfield — of  both  it  may  be  said: 

They  kept  at  true  good-humour's  mark 

The  social  flow  of  pleasure's  tide, 
They  never  made  a  brow  look  dark 

Nor  caused  a  tear  but  when  they  died. 

These  were  men  who,  as  the  saying  went,  would 
always  find  the  bright  side  of  everything — even  of  a 
London  fog. 

Sir   Alexander    Cockburn,    Lord   Chief   Justice    of 

x  Lady  Russell,  happily  still  alive,  a  writer  of  charming  books,  was 
also  a  great  friend. 


50  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

England,  was  also  a  frequent  visitor.  He  was  a 
clever  and  witty  man  and  used  to  write  my  mother 
quaint  little  notes  quite  free  from  the  formality  usually 
associated  with  the  Law.  The  following  is  a  specimen 
written  at  the  time  of  the  famous  Tichborne  trial : 

Yacht  Zouave, 
Off  Ryde. 

September  12. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Being  a  Duck,  as  you  say,  you  have  a  great 
advantage  over  me,  for  "  the  duck  knoweth  her 
appointed  season,"  which  is  a  great  deal  more  than 
I  do. 

Omniscience  alone  can  say  when  I  shall  be  released 
from  my  present  thraldom. 

Sindbad  was  not  more  rejoiced  to  be  rid  of  the  old 
man  of  the  sea  than  I  shall  be  to  be  rid  of  this  monster 
cause  and  monstrous  defendant.  .  .  . 

Though  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  well  understood  how 
to  handle  the  English  language  with  judicious  pomp 
his  notes  to  my  mother  were  always  bright  and  amus- 
ing and  often  he  would  playfully  sign  himself  "Gray 
Gander." 

The  Lord  Chief  Justice,  however,  as  a  Lord  Chief 
Justice,  could  have  very  serious  moods. 

He  came  down  to  Dangstein  the  evening  after  the 
Wainwrights  had  been  sentenced  to  death  and  was  so 
cut  up  and  miserable  that  he  hardly  ate  or  drank 
anything  for  dinner.  It  was  evident,  as  he  let  it  be 
known,  that  he  felt  the  whole  affair  intensely. 

Sir  Alexander  Cockburn  was  very  fond  of  music, 
and  gave  pleasant  little  parties  at  which  stars  of  the 
musical  world  used  to  display  their  talents.  The 
latter,  however,  were  very  much  wasted  upon  my 
mother,  who  only  cared  for  the  lightest  compositions, 
though  as  a  girl  she  used  to  sing  little  songs  and 


MRS.  SARTORIS  AND  TENNYSON         51 

accompany  herself  upon  the  guitar.  She  was  one  of 
the  very  few  people  who  never  made  any  pretence 
of  liking  the  opera,  and  would  laughingly  declare  that 
a  large  proportion  of  the  fashionable  audiences  only 
went  because  they  thought  they  ought  to  like  it. 

As  she  grew  older  her  aversion  towards  serious  music 
increased,  and  if  asked  to  go  to  a  classical  concert 
she  used  to  give  very  much  the  same  answer  as 
President  Lincoln  is  supposed  to  have  given  to  Artemus 
Ward. 

The  latter  having  written  to  Lincoln  to  ask  him  to 
attend  one  of  his  (Artemus  Ward's)  lectures,  Lincoln 
replied  that  he  had  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Ward's  lectures 
would  be  eminently  pleasing  to  people  who  liked 
lectures,  which  he,  the  President,  failed  to  do. 

About  the  only  singer  whom  I  ever  heard  my  mother 
praise  with  any  warmth  was  Mrs.  Sartoris.  She 
declared  that  that  lady  sang  delightfully,  and  a 
rendering  of  Shelley's  "  Good  Night  "  always  lingered 
in  her  memory. 

How  can  I  call  the  lone  night  good, 
Though  thy  sweet  wishes  wing  its  flight, 
Be  it  not  said,  though  understood, 
Then  it  will  be  good  night. 

Mrs.  Sartoris,  who  has  been  called  Lord  Leighton's 
Egeria,  was  frequently  at  Dangstein  and  delighted 
everyone  with  her  singing.  '  On  one  occasion,  however, 
a  contretemps  occurred. 

Tennyson  was  staying  there,  and  one  night  after 
dinner  Mrs.  Sartoris  sat  down  to  sing  a  poem  of  his 
which  she  had  set  to  music. 

She  sang  it  beautifully,  but  when  it  was  over  the 
poet  with  asperity  expressed  his  intense  annoyance 
that  his  beautiful  lines  should  have  been  set  to  what 
he  called  "  horrible  third-class  music  "  ! 

The  result  was  general  consternation — everyone 
called  for  their  candles  and  went  to  bed. 

Mrs.  Sartoris  was  a  woman  of  character  and  once 


52  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

it  was  said  refused  the  mysterious  Duke  of  Portland 
about  whose  identity  a  trial  took  place  some  years 
ago. 

After  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Sartoris  the  Duke  was 
supposed  to  have  sent  her  an  Serin  of  jewels,  but  she 
at  once  returned  it  to  him,  saying  she  only  accepted 
jewels  from  her  husband.  Another  great  lady,  how- 
ever, was  not  so  particular,  and  accepted  many 
presents  from  the  recluse  of  Welbeck. 

When  this  was  mentioned  before  Mrs.  Sartoris  the 
latter  used  to  boast  that  the  Duke  had  never  given 
her  anything  but  flowers  and  a  railway  novel ! 

Mrs.  Sartoris,  Mr.  Lowe  (afterwards  Lord  Sherbrooke), 
my  mother,  and  Lady  Airlie  for  some  time  used  to  meet 
every  year  at  the  latter's  Scotch  home,  "  Cortachy." 
On  the  Garden  of  Friendship  here  Mr.  Lowe,  who 
had  a  pretty  gift  for  writing  verse,  wrote  some  charm- 
ing lines  ending  with  a  well-deserved  panegyric  upon 
his  hostess : 

And  not  unhonoured  shall  the  Grove  ascend, 
For  every  stem  was  planted  by  a  friend, 
And  she  at  whose  commands  its  shades  arise, 
Is  good  and  gracious,  true  and  fair  and  wise. 

The  Hon.  Mr.  Frederick  Leveson-Gower,  a  charming 
and  urbane  man  of  the  world,  very  popular  with  a 
past  generation,  was  often  at  Dangstein.  Though  a 
typical  aristocrat,  he  affected  a  gentle  Radicalism  at 
which  even  the  most  rabid  Tory  could  not  take  offence. 
Another  visitor  who,  like  Mr.  Leveson-Gower,  was 
noted  for  his  great  social  popularity  was  the  celebrated 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  known  as  "  Soapy  Sam." 

It  was  the  age  of  puns  and  of  riddles,  the  last 
resource  of  weak  minds  as  they  have  sometimes  been 
called.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  Bishop,  who  was 
certainly  not  weak-minded,  may  be  said  to  have 
specialized  in  them. 

Bishop  Wilberforce  had  no  sympathy  with  fads. 
He  once  administered  a  very  humorous  rebuke  to  the 


BISHOP  WILBERFORCE  53 

daughter  of  one  of  his  father's  old  friends  who  had 
taken  a  great  part  in  the  anti-slavery  agitation.  The 
lady  in  question,  who  owed  her  large  fortune  to  a 
brewery,  being  badly  smitten  with  the  teetotal  mania, 
had  actually  caused  a  very  fine  cellar  of  wine  which 
she  had  inherited  to  be  poured  down  her  kitchen  sink. 
She  was,  however,  very  fond  of  the  Bishop  and  when 
he  came  to  stay  with  her  told  him  quietly  at  dinner 
that  though  only  temperance  drinks  would  be  served 
he  would  find  a  bottle  of  whisky  in  his  bedroom. 
Throughout  the  evening  the  Bishop  showed  the 
greatest  good  humour  and  made  no  attempt  to  stay 
the  flood  of  teetotal  oratory  with  which  he  was 
deluged. 

Shortly  afterwards  the  lady,  on  a  visit  to  the  Bishop 
at  Farnham,  was  surprised  to  find  that  no  temperance 
beverages  or  water  were  to  be  procured  at  dinner. 

"I'm  afraid,"  said  the  Bishop  to  her,  while  cheer- 
fully pointing  to  the  guests'  glasses  charged  with 
champagne,  "  that  our  habits  won't  suit  you,"  but, 
added  he,  lowering  his  voice,  "  I've  taken  care  to  see 
that  there  is  a  bottle  of  water  in  your  bedroom." 

An  even  more  determined  opponent  of  teetotalism 
than  Bishop  Wilberforce  was  the  late  Mr.  Silsbee,  the 
clever  and  original  American  who  presented  a  number 
of  Shelley  relics  (after  they  had,  probably  from 
ridiculous  prudery,  been  refused  by  Harvard)  to  the 
Bodleian  at  Oxford. 

During  the  time  that  a  great  wave  of  temperance 
reform  was  sweeping  through  certain  parts  of  America 
Mr.  Silsbee  was  asked  to  address  a  meeting  and  duly 
appeared  upon  the  platform  amid  a  crowd  of  rigid 
abstainers. 

The  audience  were  much  moved  by  speech  after 
speech  depicting  the  horrors  produced  by  alcohol, 
but  Mr.  Silsbee's  oration  produced  a  far  greater  sensa- 
tion than  all  the  rest  put  together. 

Rising  to  his  feet  he  said,  "  I  have  searched  the 
Scriptures  from  Genesis  to  Revelations  and  I  have 


54  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

found  that  there  was  only  one  man  who  called  for 
water  and  he  was  in  hell  as  he  deserved  to  be." 

The  speaker  never  received  any  other  invitation  to 
attend  temperance  meetings  ! 

The  late  Archdeacon  Wilberforce  like  his  father 
became  a  great  friend  of  my  mother's. 

Though  he  inherited  his  father's  wonderful  voice 
replete  with  melody  and  power  he  was  more  uncom- 
promising in  his  views. 

When,  for  instance,  he  became  a  teetotaller  he 
immediately  had  the  whole  contents  of  his  cellar 
poured  down  the  gutter  outside  his  Vicarage  at 
Southampton. 

Almost  a  fanatic  as  regards  abstention  from  alcohol 
he  once  while  travelling  received  a  very  severe  shock. 

"  Say  are  you  anything  to  Wilberforce  the  philan- 
thropist ?  "  (his  grandfather),  inquired  a  globe-trotting 
Yankee. 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  Yankee,  "  let's  liquor  up." 

After  the  scandalized  Archdeacon  had  explained 
matters,  the  Yankee  said,  "I'm  real  sorry." 

John  Delane,  the  famous  editor  of  The  Times,  paid 
occasional  visits  to  Dangstein,  but  it  was  difficult  for 
him  to  get  away  from  town.    He  wrote  : 

10  Serjeant's  Inn. 
March  8. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

If  it  were  only  invitations  competing  with 
persons  which  restrained  me,  I  should  accept  that  to 
Dangstein  without  thinking  of  any  other,  so  insepar- 
ably with  me  is  the  idea  of  yourself  and  cheerfulness 
associated. 

But  you  forget,  like  too  many  others,  that  I  am 
about  the  most  hard-working  man  in  London,  day 
and  night  all  the  year  through,  and  that  the  scant 
occasions  on  which  you  see  me  are  indeed  ' '  few  and 
evil "    and   have   an   increasing   tendency,   with   the 


JOHN  DELANE  55 

increasing  exigency  of  the  Public,  to  become  less  and 
less  frequent. 

I  must  therefore,  though  with  much  regret,  forgo 
all  hope  of  paying  my  respects  to  you  at  Dangstein. 

I  do,  indeed,  well  remember  our  meeting  at  High- 
clere  and  shall  never  forget  our  charming  hostess  there. 
But  what  a  season  it  has  been  !  I  have  just  been  trying 
to  do  some  justice  to  my  dear  friend  Helps,  who  has 
just  been  taken  from  us,  and  feel  so  sad  after  these 
many  losses  as  to  care  little  how  soon  my  own  time 
comes. 

Good-bye,   my  dear  Lady  Dorothy.     With  many 

thanks  and  much  regret  that  I  cannot  profit  by  your 

kindness, 

I  am,  ever  faithfully, 

(Sgd.)     Jn.  Delane. 

At  the  time  when  Delane  was  editor  of  the 
Thunderer,  of  Printing  House  Square,  he  was  assisted 
by  a  most  brilliant  staff.  The  "  Manager  "  was  Mr. 
Mowbray  Morris,  whose  son,  the  last  editor  of  Mac- 
millan's  Magazine,  a  charming  and  clever  man,  for  a 
time  himself  connected  with  The  Times  as  dramatic 
critic,  only  recently  died — Leech  drew  him  in  Punch 
as  the  little  boy  in  the  hunting  field.  Besides  Mr. 
Delane  himself  leaders  were  written  by  Mr.  Dallas, 
husband  of  the  admirable  actress,  Miss  Glyn  ;  Mr. 
Chenery,  who  was  the  correspondent  of  the  journal 
at  Constantinople  during  the  Russian  War ;  Mr. 
Moseley  and  one  or  two  others.  The  literary  reviewer 
was  Mr.  Samuel  Lucas  ;  the  theatrical  critic,  Mr.  John 
Oxenford  ;  the  musical  critic,  Mr.  J.  W.  Davison  ; 
fine  art  subjects  were  treated  by  Mr.  Tom  Taylor, 
and  the  City  article  was  written  by  Mr.  Sampson. 
The  heads  of  the  reporting  stafLwere  Mr.  Woods, 
who  was  the  Crimean  correspondent  of  the  Morning 
Herald,  and  Mr.  J.  Macdonald,  the  administrator  of 
The  Times  Fund  at  Scutari. 

From  time  to  time  there  came  down  to  Hampshire 


56  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

another  well-known  social  figure,  who  when  the  post 
was  vacant  had,  it  was  said,  come  very  near  being 
chosen  to  edit  The  Times. 

This  was  the  late  Mr.  Henry  Calcraft,  one  of  the 
most  indefatigable  diners-out  who  ever  lived,  and 
credited  with  knowing  everything  about  everybody. 
His  reputation  for  social  omniscience,  however,  was 
possibly  exaggerated.  An  agreeable  type  of  the 
Government  official  of  mid- Victorian  times,  no  one 
better  than  he  understood  how  to  combine  a  moderate 
amount  of  work  with  a  great  deal  of  social  enjoyment. 
A  certain  mysterious  reticence  made  him  rather 
feared,  but  he  used  this  power  with  discretion  and 
never  inspired  anyone  with  the  dread  which  that 
rather  irresponsible  freelance  Bernal  Osborne  was  apt 
to  do. 

At  Dangstein,  what  with  horticulture,  her  pets,  and 
her  artistic  work,  my  mother's  time  was  fully  taken  up. 

The  gardens  with  greenhouses  filled  with  rare  plants 
greatly  interested  scientific  men. 

Orchids  and  insectivorous  plants  were  her  especial 
hobby,  and  so  she  got  into  touch  with  the  author  of 
the  Origin  of  Species. 

Writing  to  a  friend  at  this  time  she  said,  "  Mr. 
Darwin  has  expressed  a  wish  to  see  me — I  dare  hardly 
hope  for  such  happiness." 

She  was  able  to  furnish  the  great  naturalist  with  many 
specimens,  which  she  liked  to  think  were  of  use  to  him 
in  his  wonderful  researches. 

"  I  am  sending  "  (she  wrote  to  Lady  Airlie)  "  curious 
plants  to  experimentalize  upon  to  Mr.  Darwin.  I  am 
so  pleased  to  help  in  any  way  the  labours  of  such  a 
man — it  is  quite  an  excitement  for  me  in  my  quiet 
life,  my  intercourse  with  him — he  promises  to  pay  me 
a  visit  when  in  London.  I  am  sure  he  will  find  I  am 
the  missing  link  between  man  and  apes." 

For  years  the  great  naturalist  kept  up  an  inter- 
mittent1 correspondence  with  my  mother,  who,  how- 

1  See  her  Reminiscences. 


DARWIN  57 

ever,  never  could  induce  him  to  pay  her  a  visit — he 
very  rarely  left  his  Kentish  home  at  Down. 

His  last  letter  was  written  with  reference  to  affixing 
his  signature  to  a  curious  little  birthday-book  which 
she  kept. 

Down, 

Beckenham, 
Kent 

(Railway  Station, 
Orpington,  S.E.R.), 
November  29,  1881. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy  Nevill, 

I  have  had  much  pleasure  in  signing  the  little 
book.1  I  rarely  come  to  London,  but  on  the  two  last 
occasions,  I  had  hoped  for  the  honour  and  pleasure 
of  calling  on  you.  Time  and  strength,  however,  failed 
me.  I  am  glad  that  you  have  been  at  all  interested 
by  my  book  on  earth-worms. 

I  beg  leave  to  remain, 
Your  Ladyship's,  faithfully  and  obliged, 

Charles  Darwin. 

Though  Darwin  did  not  come  to  her,  she  went  to 
him.  Mrs.  Darwin  was  rather  perturbed  before  the 
visit,  fearing  that  the  extreme  simplicity  of  life  at 
Down  would  pall  upon  one  used  to  the  gaieties  of 
country-house  visiting.  Before  this  visit,  accordingly, 
she  wrote  to  my  mother  saying  that  she  understood 
that  those  who  moved  much  in  London  society  were 
accustomed  to  find  their  country-house  visits  en- 
livened by  all  sorts  of  sports  and  practical  jokes — she 
had  read  that  tossing  people  in  blankets  had  become 
highly  popular  as  a  diversion.  "  I  am  afraid,"  her 
letter  ended,  "  we  should  hardly  be  able  to  offer  you 
anything  of  that  sort." 

1  A  birthday-book  (now  in  my  possession),  illustrated  by  Miss  Kate 
Greenaway,  in  which  my  mother  collected  autographs  of  all  the 
Victorian  celebrities, 


58  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

At  the  time  of  the  publication  of  the  Origin  of 
Species,  my  mother,  unlike  a  number  of  her  con- 
temporaries who  feared  the  book  would  shake  people's 
faith  in  religion,  remained  quite  unperturbed,  and  she 
became  very  much  interested  in  the  theory  which 
was  to  have  such  a  profound  effect  upon  scientific 
thought. 

At  the  present  day  it  is  difficult  to  realize  the 
stir  caused  when  the  theory  of  Evolution  was  first 
launched. 

A  great  friend  of  hers  wrote  : 

"  Keep  me  some  hour  when  you  come  to  London 
and  let  me  see  you  and  talk  to  you,  and  tell  me  about 
Darwin  and  the  plants,  and,  if  you  can,  do  let  me  some 
day  come  and  see  them.  It  is  long  since  I  have  seen 
your  wonders,  and  I  would  like  to  come  again.  How 
far  does  Darwinianism  enter  into  you — does  it  disturb 
your  old  beliefs  or  not  ?  I  think  the  mind  of  the  real 
Naturalist  is  sometimes  so  bent  upon  each  fact  and 
each  discovery  as  never  to  generalize,  and  so  they 
manage  to  keep  the  two  things  separate  in  their  mind. 
That  is  the  real  way,  I  think,  and  if  men  have  faith 
in  God,  no  facts,  however  startling,  will  make  them 
doubt,  but,  as  Arnold  said,  they  will  wait  before  the 
greatest  doubts  with  the  same  patience  and  belief 
as  they  did  in  old  days  when  all  dogma  seemed 
safe." 

These  were  the  days  when  animated  controversies 
raged  as  to  whether  religion  could  ever  be  reconciled 
with  science  ;  many  clever  men  became  wildly  excited 
on  this  subject. 

Darwin  himself  used  to  tell  a  story  of  a  pious  pro- 
fessor who,  ever  seeking  to  reconcile  biology  with  the 
Bible,  accounted  for  the  extinction  of  the  mastodon 
by  saying  that  the  door  of  the  ark  had  been  made  too 
small  to  admit  it ! 

Another  scientific  friend  of  my  mother  who  wrote 
a  good  deal  about  the  theory  of  Evolution  was  the 


CHURCH  RESTORATION  59 

late  Professor  Mivart.  He  paid  many  visits  to  Dang- 
stein,  which  he  found  an  ideal  place  for  resting  his 
brain  when  it  was  wearied  with  work  and  research  ; 
and  indeed,  anything  more  pleasant  than  the  country- 
side could  not  be  imagined. 

To  the  north  Haslemere  was  still  merely  a  village 
and  the  villas  which  now  abound  were  as  yet  undreamt 
of  :  to  the  south  rose  the  peaceful  South  Downs, 
between  which  and  Dangstein  lay  a  gently  undulating 
country  abounding  in  prosperous-looking  homesteads, 
well-farmed  fields,  and  delightful  woods,  here  and  there 
intersected  by  the  swift-flowing  Rother,  in  places  the 
most  picturesque  of  streams.  Certain  districts  re- 
mained in  much  the  same  condition  as  they  had  been 
in  since  the  advent  of  the  Norman  knights,  sleeping 
their  last  sleep  in  quaint  old  village  churches  as  yet 
untouched  by  the  "  restorer." 

There  may  be  something  to  be  said  for  the  removal 
of  old-fashioned  box-pews  made  of  deal,  but  fine 
specimens  of  craftsmanship  in  oak  surely  deserve 
preservation. 

The  vast  majority,  however,  have  shared  the  fate 
of  the  quaint  galleries  in  which  local  instrumentalists 
formerly  supplied  the  music  now  furnished  by 
organs. 

Up  till  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century  the 
imprint  left  by  successive  generations  could  be  traced 
in  most  village  churches  which  often  contained  various 
relics  of  the  past  of  great  interest  to  the  student  of 
social  history. 

The  restorer  generally  seeks  to  bring  any  building 
he  lays  his  hands  on  into  harmony  with  the  style 
prevalent  at  some  particular  mediaeval  date.  He 
despises  the  continuity  of  history  and  sweeps  every- 
thing else  away. 

English  ecclesiastical  opinion  at  the  time  of  the 
Oxford  movement  for  some  inscrutable  reason  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  God  ought  to  be  worshipped 
only  amidst  Gothic  surroundings.     As  a  result,   an 


60  LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 

enormous  quantity  of  fine  Jacobean  and  Georgian 
woodwork  was  destroyed,  its  place  being  taken  by 
machine-made  Gothic,  for  which  so  many  of  the 
modern  clergy  still  have  a  strong  predilection.  The 
most  glaring  instance  of  this  form  of  vandalism  was 
the  removal  of  the  superb  panelling  from  Winchester 
College  Chapel  in  the  seventies.  Some  thirty  years 
earlier  so-called  restorations  of  the  Chapel  and  College 
Hall  had  done  much  damage  at  Eton. 

Enormous  quantities  of  fine  woodwork  were 
destroyed  at  this  period.  What  the  best  of  it  was 
like  can  be  realized  from  the  interior  of  Hampton 
Court  Chapel  which  by  a  happy  miracle  remains 
untouched. 

When  the  restoration  craze  set  in  and  aged  villagers 
saw  the  pews  in  which  so  many  generations  of  their 
forefathers  had  worshipped  carted  out  as  lumber  and 
their  church  gutted  they  must  have  felt  that  truly 
the  old  order  was  passing  away. 

Hampshire,  like  the  rest  of  rural  England,  came  in 
for  its  share  of  "  restoration,"  and  in  due  course 
Rogate  Church,  near  Dangstein,  was  handed  over  to 
a  small  army  of  workmen  who  in  addition  to  stripping 
it  of  much  that  was  interesting  to  the  lovers  of  the 
past,  also  contrived  to  mingle  the  gravestones  of  those 
buried  in  the  churchyard  in  inextricable  confusion, 
in  some  cases  losing  them  altogether. 

An  ornate  service  of  reopening  closed  this  regret- 
table chapter  of  local  history.  No  wonder  some 
of  the  parishioners  rather  ruefully  returned  thanks 
for  the  doubtful  blessings  of  such  a  drastic  restora- 
tion. 

My  mother's  idea  of  a  suitable  education  for  the 
working  classes  was  that  the  girls,  in  addition  of  course 
to  reading  and  writing,  should  be  taught  housekeeping, 
cookery,  and  sewing,  and  the  boys  the  elements  of 
some  trade  or  of  agriculture.  Attempts  to  implant  a 
love  of  Shakespeare,  nature  study  and  the  like,  including 
a  little  fret-sawing  by  way  of  developing  latent  ten- 


DESIGNATION  OF  "ESQUIRE"  61 

dencies  towards  Art,  she  rightly  regarded  as  mere 
criminal  waste  of  money  and  time. 

The  life  of  the  poorer  classes  living  in  the  country, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  wages  were  lower  than 
at  present,  was  certainly  then  not  an  unhappy  one.  A 
bond  of  sympathy  existed  between  landlord  and  ten- 
antry, which  is  now,  except  in  some  few  cases,  a  thing 
of  the  past.  Classes  were  more  strictly  defined,  and 
the  farmers,  the  majority  of  them  sturdy  yeomen  of  far 
more  distinguished  descent  than  most  of  the  brand-new 
peers  of  to-day,  would  have  laughed  to  scorn  any  idea 
of  calling  themselves  gentlemen. 

To-day,  however,  almost  everyone  is  a  gentleman 
just  as  almost  everyone  is  an  "  Esquire." 

The  present  use  of  the  latter  distinction,  indeed, 
conveys  not  the  remotest  idea  of  its  origin  in  past 
ages.  "  The  designation  of  "  Esquire  "  originated  in 
the  days  of  chivalry,  when  the  sons  of  gentlemen, 
from  the  age  of  seven  years,  were  brought  up  in  the 
castles  of  superior  lords.  This  was  an  inestimable 
advantage  to  the  poorer  nobility,  who  could  other- 
wise scarcely  have  given  their  children  the  accom- 
plishments then  considered  indispensable  to  their 
station. 

The  same  slipshod  system  has  crept  in  as  regards 
the  use  of  the  word  "  Lady,"  in  former  times  applied 
solely  to  a  female  born  of  gentle  blood. 

My  mother  never  failed  to  point  out  the  folly  of 
work-women,  shop-girls,  and  the  like  calling  each 
other  "  Ladies."  All  this  sort  of  thing  seemed  to  her 
to  be  mere  vulgar  humbug,  and  she  did  not  fail  to  say 
so. 

Notwithstanding  these  views  she  was  far  more 
democratic  in  her  ideas  than  most  of  her  neighbours, 
who  were  almost  without  exception  hidebound  Tories 
of  the  most  old-fashioned  school. 

As  for  the  rustics,  their  mind  was  more  or  less  a 
blank.  From  a  political  point  of  view,  the  country- 
side was  wrapped  in  slumber,  and  in  after  years  my 


62  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

mother  would  illustrate  the  small  honour  in  which 
politicians  were  then  held  by  the  masses  by  the  story 
of  the  ardent  Free  Trader  who  came  down  into  Sussex 
with  a  view  to  interviewing  Mr.  Cobden.  The  visitor 
lost  his  way,  and  was  obliged  to  interrogate  a  passing 
yokel  as  to  whether  he  knew  Mr.  Cobden  and  where 
he  lived. 

"  Muster  Cobden  ?  "  said  the  man  ;  "  to  be  sure, 
we  all  knows  him  !  He  keeps  the  public-house  at 
Ha'naker,  and  rare  sport  he  do  have  there  at  times  !  " 
In  the  end  the  Londoner  discovered  that  the  rare 
sport  was  cockfighting,  for  arranging  which  the 
Muster  Cobden  in  question  enjoyed  great  local 
popularity  ;  about  the  other  Cobden  the  rustic  said 
he  knew  little  and  cared  less. 

Sporting  events  interested  the  country-folk  far  more 
than  politics.  Writing  to  a  friend  in  1876  my  mother 
said  : 

"  There  has  been  great  rejoicing  here  over 
'  Petrarch  'x  as  he  was  born  and  bred  at  Midhurst, 
and  the  owner,  a  miller,  told  a  friend  he  had  refused 
£10,000  for  him.  I  backed  him  for  5  shillings  and  won 
accordingly." 

The  great  landowners  and  squirearchy  were  over- 
whelmingly Tory  ;  the  spirit  which  animated  many 
of  them  was  amusingly  shown  by  the  answer  of  an 
old  lady.  Asked  to  lend  her  carriage  to  assist  in 
conveying  voters  to  the  poll,  she  replied  that  she 
would  only  do  so  if  she  could  be  fully  assured  that  the 
Conservative  candidate  would  be  successful.  "  We 
do  not  care,"  said  she,  ''to  be  associated  with 
failure  !  " 

At  Up  Park,  a  beautiful  place  on  the  downs,  lived 
old  Lady  Featherstonhaugh — a  real  link  with  the  past 
— for  she  was  the  widow  of  Sir  Harry  Featherston- 
haugh who  had   entertained  Nelson's  love — Emma, 

1  Lord  Dupplin's  "  Petrarch  "  won  the  Two  Thousand  Guineas  and 
St.  Leger  that  year. 


LADY  FEATHERSTONHAUGH  63 

Lady  Hamilton,  and  taught  her  to  ride.  Sir  Harry, 
whose  morality  was  of  the  easy  eighteenth-century 
type,  was  first  attracted  by  his  future  bride  when  she 
was  a  simple  country  girl  living  on  his  estate,  and 
eventually  the  old  Regency  buck  led  her  to  the  altar. 
Sir  Harry  had  long  been  dead,  but  his  widow,  whose 
sister  had  come  to  live  with  her,  kept  Up  Park 
exactly  as  it  had  been  in  his  time,  taking  the  greatest 
care  of  the  beautiful  china  and  objets  d'art.  She  was 
a  most  kindly  old  lady,  but  had  a  bitter  hatred  of 
Radicalism  and  Radicals.  It  was  therefore  a  great 
triumph  for  my  mother  when  she  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing leave  for  Mr.  Cobden  to  visit  Up  Park,  which  he 
had  long  wanted  to  see.  Lady  Featherstonhaugh, 
however,  expressly  stipulated  that  she  herself  should 
not  be  expected  to  appear.  On  a  subsequent  occasion, 
when  my  mother  asked  leave  to  bring  Mr.  Lowe 
over,  the  chatelaine  of  Up  Park  adopted  exactly  the 
same  procedure — as  she  told  my  mother  she  could 
not  bear  to  meet  people  holding  Revolutionary 
opinions. 

Some  other  Tory  neighbours  were  even  more 
intolerant  than  old  Lady  Featherstonhaugh,  and  when 
they  wanted  to  let  their  houses,  would  only  accept 
a  Conservative  tenant.  On  the  whole  Mr.  Cobden 
was  generally  regarded  with  horror,  and  though  the 
most  courteous  and  amiable  of  men,  towards  the  end 
of  his  life  more  or  less  tabooed.  This,  of  course,  as 
my  mother  used  to  say,  was  of  little  moment  to  him. 
He  was  consoled  by  the  friends  who  revered  him 
in  his  lifetime  and  treasured  his  memory  after  his 
death. 

When  my  mother  first  went  to  Dangstein  it  was 
twenty-two  miles  from  a  station  and  the  line  was  not 
extended  without  opposition. 

Railways  for  a  long  time  were  generally  unpopular  ; 
besides  which,  the  many  who  had  invested  in  them  in 
the  hopes  of  making  speedy  fortunes,  became  un- 
pleasantly disillusioned. 


64  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Palatial  stations  and  termini,  the  plunder  of  lawyers, 
and  the  formation  of  non-paying  branch  lines  upon  a 
principle  of  competition,  speciously  described  as 
"  commanding  a  country  or  district,"  so  as  to  prevent 
it  falling  into  the  "  system  of  another  company,"  were 
the  leading  causes  of  the  decline  in  the  dividends  of 
the  principal  lines.  In  1858  things  reached  a  climax, 
the  Great  Western  declared  no  dividend  at  all ;  the 
Great  Northern  gave  its  shareholders  £3  7s.  6d.  per 
cent  ;  the  London  and  North  Western  showed  the 
handsome  profit  of  3!  per  cent  ;  while  the  Manchester, 
Sheffield,  and  Lancashire,  having  had  an  advance  of 
£25,000  from  the  Great  Northern  in  respect  of  earn- 
ings for  one  year,  offered  its  ordinary  shareholders 
nothing,  though  it  succeeded  in  paying  the  usual 
dividend  on  preference  shares.  All  of  these  were 
companies  in  which  the  system  of  competition  had  been 
somewhat  recklessly  carried  on.  The  confidence  of 
the  public  in  the  security  of  railway  property  was 
sadly  shaken  by  such  occurrences,  and  thus  even 
companies  which  had  pursued  a  prudent  policy  began 
to  be  looked  upon  askance. 

The  nearest  station  to  Dangstein  at  that  time  was 
Godalming,  the  other  links  with  civilization  being  an 
old  and  respectable  stage  coach,  and  a  carrier  who 
sometimes  fell  asleep  either  from  excess  of  weariness 
or  beeriness,  and  did  not  put  in  an  appearance  for 
hours,  sometimes  for  days,  after  he  was  due.  The 
village  postman,  one  of  the  old  school,  was  highly 
erratic. 

The  telegraphic  arrangements  in  those  early  days 
were  also  somewhat  primitive.  One  anxious  husband 
was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  electrified  to  receive  a 
message  :  "  Wife  and  Utter  all  doing  well."  He  at 
once  telegraphed  back :  "  For  heaven's  sake,  how 
many  ?  "  and  was  not  thoroughly  himself  again  till 
a  corrected  wire,  "  Wife  and  little  one  doing  well," 
came  to  hand. 

During  the  long  winters  at  Dangstein  my  mother 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOOKER  65 

passed  much  time  in  various  artistic  occupations.  At 
one  period  she  became  exceedingly  proficient  in 
illuminating  skeletonized  leaves  stretched  upon  paper, 
a  minor  form  of  art  popular,  I  believe,  in  China — prob- 
ably Sir  Harry  Parkes  brought  it  to  her  notice.  The 
leaves  used  were  those  of  a  hothouse  plant,  the  Ficus 
religiosa.  They  were  skeletonized  by  maceration  and 
coated  with  isinglass,  which  rendered  them  capable  of 
being  painted  on.  The  delicate  design  was  elaborated 
by  minute  illumination,  which  produced  a  very  pretty 
effect.  She  illuminated  a  large  leaf  for  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  and  this  after  his  death  was  given  back  to  her 
by  the  executors. 

The  late  Sir  William  Hooker,  director  of  Kew 
Gardens,  who  was  a  constant  visitor  at  Dangstein, 
took  great  interest  in  this  skeletonizing  of  leaves.  He 
wrote : 

Royal  Gardens,  Kew. 

April  19,  1861. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Our  poor  friend  Henslow  is  still  lingering  on 
and  we  are  in  daily,  I  may  truly  say  in  hourly, 
expectation  of  hearing  of  his  decease. 

You  have  excelled  in  preparing  skeleton  leaves,  I 
know — and  I  have  seen,  I  think,  some  foliage  in  the 
early  stage  of  the  operation,  in  vessels  of  soft  rain- 
water, to  remove  by  a  putrefying  process  the  pulpy 
substance.  A  lady  friend  of  mine  wants  to  know  the 
further  process  for  removing  all  the  decaying  matter 
and  leaving  the  fine  in  the  beautifully  clean  state  when 
the  operation  is  finished  ?  Is  it  chloride  of  lime,  or 
some  bleaching  fluid  ? 

I  have  at  length  a  goodly  number  of  cocoons,  sent 
out  by  the  French  Government  to  the  Ionian  Islands, 
of  the  new  Chinese  silk-worm.  Your  Nephew,  I  think, 
Mr.  Drummond    Wolff,1    Civil   Secretary    there    and 

1  Her  cousin,  the  late  Sir  Henry  Drummond  Wolff. 
5 


66  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

President  of  the  Ionian  Association,  I  presume  for 
the  culture  of  this  insect,  has  done  me  the  honour 
to  make  me  an  "  Honorary  Vice-President  "  of  the 
Society — I  hope  with  the  understanding  that  I  am 
never  required  to  act  in  that  capacity.  M.  Guerin 
Meneville  too,  in  return  for  a  little  service  I  rendered 
him,  had  sent  me  a  most  beautiful  case  with  the  pre- 
served insects  in  all  their  various  stages,  and  samples 
of  the  silk,  raw  and  manufactured,  and  begged  me  to 
ascertain  if  our  Queen  would  accept  a  similar  one. 
I  showed  her  mine  and  she  is  so  charmed  that 
she  has  commanded  me  to  inform  M.  Meneville 
that  she  will  graciously  accept  his  offer.  I  believe 
small  sets  are  sold  in  Paris,  and  they  are  extremely 
interesting. 

I  have  just  sent  off  another  collector  to  Japan.  He 
goes  out  with  Mr.  Oliphant  and  under  the  most  favour- 
able auspices. 

Yours,  my  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 
Most  faithfully, 

W.  J.  Hooker. 

The  writer's  son,  the  late  Sir  Joseph  Hooker,  o.M., 
G.c.s.i.,  was  also  a  friend  and  took  the  greatest  interest 
in  the  garden  at  Dangstein,  and  in  the  silkworm 
industry  which  at  one  time  my  mother  tried  so  hard 
to  establish. 

In  Mr.  Leonard  Huxley's  most  interesting  biography1 
is  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  W.  C.  Darwin  in  January, 
1906,  in  which  Sir  Joseph  said  : 

"  I  knew  Lady  Dorothy  Nevill  very  well  and  had 
many  invitations  to  her  hospitable  house.  Her 
narrative  does  not  do  justice  to  herself.  She  was  not 
the  frivolous  character  she  paints.  She  was  thoroughly 
interested  in  the  rare  plants  of  her  noble  garden.    Her 

1  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Sir  J.  D.  Hooker,  by  Mr.  Leonard  Huxley. 
Vol.  II,  p.  461.   1918.    London,  John  Murray. 


SILKWORM  CULTURE  67 

exertions  in  the  hopeless  endeavour  to  establish  a  silk 
culture  in  England  were  earnest  and  long  continued — 
and  her  efforts  to  improve  donkey  breeding  and  other 
industries  of  a  like  nature  were  as  intelligent  as  useful. 
I  ought  to  go  and  see  her,  as  she  made  me  welcome  in 
London  too,  but  have  not  for  years." 

For  several  years  my  mother  was  much  absorbed 
with  her  silkworms  in  which  many  of  her  friends  took 
great  interest. 

Mr.  Cobden  gave  a  great  impetus  to  this  hobby  of 
hers  by  sending  her  some  eggs  of  the  Ailanthus  glan- 
dulosa  from  Algiers  where  he  passed  a  winter. 

The  silkworm  in  question  is  quite  hardy,  living  in 
the  open  air  in  China  upon  the  leaf  of  a  tree  of  the 
Sumach  family  known  as  the  "  tree  of  heaven."  Its 
great  enemy  in  England  was  the  tit.  Weather  did  not 
affect  it. 

My  mother  published  a  small  volume  upon  silk- 
worm culture ;  her  interest  in  it  brought  her  into 
correspondence  with  a  number  of  interesting  people, 
amongst  them  the  late  Frank  Buckland,  who  after- 
wards became  a  frequent  visitor  to  Dangstein.  He 
took  a  warm  interest  in  the  experiment,  his  first  letter 
concerning  v/hich  was  as  follows  : 

2  Life  Guards, 

Windsor. 

August  26,  1861. 
Allow  me  to  thank  you  very  much  for  allowing  me 
to  see  the  paper  upon  the  silkworm,  which  is  indeed 
a  most  interesting  subject.  I  confess  I  was  often 
puzzled  with  some  of  the  French  words  which  were 
not  in  my  little  dictionary.  I  am  very  glad  you  have 
succeeded  so  well.  If  you  can  manage  to  get  any 
quantity  of  silk  I  will  show  it  for  you  in  the  Exhibition 
of  1862.  This  will  be  a  grand  thing.  I  have  sent  to 
Paris  for  the  book.     If  I  were  you  I  should  write  to 


68  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

M.  Meneville.    I  see  the  book  is  sold  chez  l'Auteur, 
Rue  des  Beaux  Arts,  No.  4. 

I  have  not  the  least  idea  what  your  silk-making 
worm  can  be,  as  you  may  know  I  write  for  The  Field. 
There  is  a  gentleman  who  prides  himself  that  he  knows 
everything.  I  will,  with  your  permission,  try  him  with 
your  question  signing  my  own  name,  we  will  see  what 
he  says. 

Thanking  you  much  for  your  kindness,  j 
Believe  me, 

Yours  most  obliged, 

F.  T.  Buckland. 

Frank  Buckland's  sister,  Mrs.  Gordon,  the  wife  of 
the  Vicar  of  Harting,  a  village  not  very  far  from 
Dangstein,  was  a  very  clever  and  artistic  woman  of 
whom  my  mother  saw  a  great  deal. 

In  the  course  of  her  silkworm  experiences  the  latter 
actually  succeeded  in  obtaining  enough  silk  to  make  a 
dress,  besides  sending  cocoons  to  various  people 
interested  in  silk  culture.  Amongst  others  she  sent 
them  to  the  family  of  Cloete  (one  of  whom  became  a 
great  friend  of  hers  in  after  years),  at  the  Cape,  and 
they  sent  her  in  return  a  dozen  bottles  of  very  fine 
Constantia.  She  also  sent  worms  to  different  parts  of 
Australia,  where,  like  the  sparrows  and  the  rabbits, 
they  became  somewhat  of  a  plague,  and  she  distributed 
them  over  England,  but  there  the  tits  followed  them, 
and,  after  some  years  of  patient  trial,  she  reluctantly 
decided  to  abandon  silkworms  altogether. 

Besides  being  interested  in  donkey  breeding  and 
silkworm  culture,  my  mother  experimented  in  various 
other  directions.  Finding,  for  instance,  quantities  of 
wood  coloured  green  by  decay,  she  conceived  the  idea 
of  having  portions  of  it  worked  up  into  various  pieces 
of  furniture,  mantelpieces,  and  the  like.  Though  the 
cost  of  polishing  and  preparing  this  green  wood  was 
considerable,  the  effect  was  good.     Some  years  later 


GREEN  WOOD  69 

a  friend  who  had  become  interested,  having  investi- 
gated the  cause  of  the  peculiar  colour,  wrote  : 

Shire, 

Guildford. 

October  5,  1882. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  have  learnt  that  the  microscopic  fungus  which 
colours  old  green  wood  such  as  I  have  seen  in  your 
house  is  called — Stictis  Versicolor.  Perhaps  you  know 
this  already,  but  I  send  you  the  name  because  I  may 
have  forgotten  it  by  the  time  we  meet  again.  Perhaps 
it  may  be  cultivated  by  inoculating  old  bits  of  wood 
with  the  fungus,  then  if  kept  dark  and  damp,  it  might 
spread  through  it.  What  do  you  think  of  this  idea  ? 
Will  you  try  some  experiments  and  if  successful  we 
might  make  a  large  fortune  before  we  disclose  the 
process  to  the  world  ? 

Yours  sincerely, 

Arthur  Russell. 

I  may  add  that  about  the  time  of  my  mother's 
death  an  official  connected  with  scientific  forestry 
came  to  make  inquiries  as  to  this  green  wood,  its 
possibilities  for  commercial  uses  having  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  authorities.  No  one  else  but  my  mother 
seems  ever  to  have  realized  its  artistic  value — her  most 
ambitious  efforts  were  two  mantelpieces  (one  of  which 
is  in  my  possession),  but  small  tables,  boxes,  book- 
cases, and  the  like  were  also  made. 

She  dearly  loved  all  quaint  devices,  and  being  sent 
some  pigeon  whistles  from  China  by  Sir  Harry  Parkes, 
organized  an  aerial  orchestra.  These  whistles,  which 
resembled  small  organ  pipes,  sounded  various  notes, 
and  when  attached  to  pigeons'  tails  produced  a  very 
pleasant  effect,  resembling  that  of  /Eolian  harps. 
People  used  to  be  considerably  astonished  at  such 
heavenly  music,  and,  till  they  discovered  its  origin, 
were  generally  very  much  puzzled. 


70  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

In  the  early  seventies  came  a  great  craze  for 
aquariums,  and  several  tanks  full  of  fish  were  installed 
in  hothouses  at  Dangstein.  One  contained  a  number 
of  those  curious  creatures — Axolotls.  My  mother  was 
led  to  take  an  interest  in  these  fish  lizards  by  the  late 
Professor  Mivart,  who,  as  has  before  been  said,  made 
frequent  visits  to  Hampshire. 

At  one  time  my  mother  was  much  absorbed  with 
the  study  of  edible  fungi,  which  during  the  sixties 
became  quite  a  craze.  The  mania  for  eating  fungi, 
indeed,  produced  quite  a  number  of  unfortunate 
accidents  and  even  fatalities  ;  for  instance,  five  French 
officers  died  in  Corsica  from  the  effect  of  a  so-called 
mushroom  breakfast.  In  1851,  Dr.  Gerard  demon- 
strated, by  actual  experiments  on  himself,  to  the 
French  Academy  of  Science,  that  all  poisonous  mush- 
rooms might  be  made  perfectly  harmless  by  steeping 
them  for  a  couple  of  hours  in  water  acidulated  with 
vinegar.  Whether  this  is  really  the  case  or  not  seems, 
however,  highly  doubtful. 

One  of  her  interesting  visitors  at  Dangstein  was  the 
Rev.  H.  M.  Berkeley — a  great  muscologist,  and  with 
him  she  often  went  to  explore  the  woods  in  search  of 
edible  fungi.  Her  opinion  of  the  latter  for  eating 
purposes  was  as  follows  :  "  We  had  a  good  many  of 
them  cooked,  but  I  must  own  that  except  for  the  good 
sauces  in  which  they  were  cooked  we  might  have 
eaten  old  shoes.  There  was  one,  a  beautiful  one,  the 
strawberry  fungus — coloured  like  a  strawberry — a 
lovely  one  to  look  at,  but  more  or  less  poisonous.  The 
Russians  use  it  to  make  themselves  drunk,  as  it  is 
most  efficacious  in  that  respect."  Mr.  Berkeley  told  my 
mother  that  he  had  once  sent  a  basket  of  these  beauti- 
ful fungi  to  the  daughters  of  a  clergyman.  These 
simple  creatures  believing  that  everything  such  a 
great  authority  sent  must  be  as  good  to  eat  as  to 
look  at,  at  once  decided  to  cook  and  eat  his  gift. 
Calling  upon  them  the  next  day,  Mr.  Berkeley  found 
to  his  dismay  that  both  the  ladies  had  been  taken 


MUSCOLOGY  71 

to  bed  in  a  most  grievous  plight,  quite  incapable  of 
doing  anything.  There  is  a  charming  little  fungus 
which  grows  amongst  the  fairy  rings  of  a  poisonous 
fungus,  it  is  the  Menasmum  Oriacles,  only  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  poisonous  fairy  rings  by  its  broader 
gills,  and  therefore  no  one  ought  to  gather  it  unless 
they  can  see  the  difference. 

This  was  by  no  means  an  exceptional  case  as  the 
following  letter  shows  : 

SlBLEERTOFT, 

Market  Harborough. 

Sept.  17,  1868. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  am  here  lying  like  a  log  from  gout.  I  had  a 
threatening  at  Norwich,  but  drove  it  off  there  only 
to  have  a  worse  attack  here.  The  fungus  competition 
is  to  come  off  the  first  Tuesday  in  October.  You  have 
kindly  offered  two  guineas  for  the  second  best  collec- 
tion, and  perhaps  you  will  kindly  send  me  a  cheque 
for  that  sum,  that  I  may  be  prepared.  Some  friends 
of  mine  have  lately  been  nearly  poisoned  from  mis- 
taking the  Sileroderm,  which  is  so  common  on  your 
lawn,  for  the  young  of  Ly  coper  don  giganteus.  Pray 
do  not  make  any  experiment  without  good  advice. 
With  kind  regards  to  Mr.  Nevill, 

I  am,  sincerely  yours, 

(Sgd.)  W.  J.  Berkeley. 

Do  you  know  my  kind  neighbours,  Mr.  Frederick 
Villiers  and  Lady  Elizabeth  ? 

Though  more  is  now  understood  about  fungi  than 
in  those  far-off  days,  a  number  of  people  perish  every 
year  from  "  muscological  "  carelessness  or  mistakes. 
Only  a  year  or  two  ago  the  death  from  mushroom 
or  fungi  poisoning  of  Mr.  Montagu  White  and  his 
sister  Mrs.  Ham  was  announced  from  South  Africa. 


72  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Both  of  these  victims  had  been  friends  of  my  mother, 
who  saw  a  great  deal  of  Mr.  White  when  he  was 
Consul-General  of  the  Transvaal  Republic  and  resided 
at  Haslemere. 

After  the  outbreak  of  the  Boer  War  his  position 
became  very  difficult,  nevertheless  she  continued  to 
show  him  a  sympathy  which  was  fully  appreciated. 
His  sister  was  a  highly  educated  and  cultured 
woman. 

Besides  being  interested  in  fungi  my  mother  was  a 
warm  supporter  of  the  neglected  English  truffle.  She 
it  was  who  persuaded  the  late  Lord  Ashburton  to 
hunt  for  it  under  the  beech  trees  in  his  park  with 
the  result  that  English  truffles  ever  after  figured  on 
the  menus  at  the  Grange. 

In  addition  to  the  interests  of  her  large  garden 
a  great  deal  of  her  time  was  occupied  with  her 
pets.  Sir  R.  Herbert  of  the  Colonial  Office  gave  her 
some  Siamese  cats,  a  number  of  which  had  been 
imported  direct  from  Siam. 

Later  on  she  always  had  one  or  two  Pekinese,  at  one 
time  known  as  the  "  lion  dogs  of  China."  These  were 
given  to  her  by  the  late  Duchess  of  Richmond  ;  the 
breed  was  then  only  to  be  obtained  from  Goodwood, 
the  late  Duke  of  Richmond  having  been  sent  some  of 
them  from  China. 

A  number  of  her  pets  lie  buried  in  a  special 
animals'  cemetery  she  had  laid  out  in  the  grounds 
of  her  Hampshire  home,  but  the  inscriptions  she 
put  over  their  graves  have  probably  long  dis- 
appeared. 

The  late  Lord  Sherbrooke  (then  Mr.  Lowe)  and  Mr. 
Mallock  both  wrote  epitaphs  in  verse,  which  have  been 
already  printed. 

In  the  intervals  of  entertaining  and  looking  after 
her  garden  and  her  pets  my  mother  never  neglected 
the  task  of  trying  to  improve  her  mind.  She  made 
a  point  of  setting  aside  a  certain  amount  of  time  for 
reading. 


LIFE  IN  THE  COUNTRY  73 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  in  the  seventies  she  said  : 

'  Tho'  I  do  try  so  very  hard  to  recollect  and  profit 
by  what  I  read  I  always  think  it  is  so  hard  that  no 
one — or  at  least  few — sees  us  when  we  are  at  home 
and  really  rational,  but  it  cannot  be  helped. 

"  I  hadn't  seen  a  single  soul  till  yesterday  when  we 
went  to  join  a  picnic  J-way  between  here  and  Good- 
wood to  meet  the  Richmonds  and  Saxe-Weimars — 
the  poor  Duchess  bent  down  at  the  thoughts  of  "  annual 
Royalties  "  till  the  grave  closes  over  her. 

'  The  Princesses  were  notwithstanding  charming 
and  they  each  gave  her  a  handsome  bracelet — the 
P.  of  W.  rather  bored. 

"There  was  nothing  new  but  toilettes,  therefore  I 
have  gained  nothing  to  tell  you." 

In  another  letter  she  said  : 

"  We  have  been  so  delightfully  quiet  these  last 
4  weeks  and  I  have  enjoyed  myself  both  bodily  and 
mentally. 

"  I  am  so  busy  painting  on  china.  Of  course  I 
cannot  succeed  now,  but  time  does  everything,  and 
who  knows  what  it  may  do  in  my  case. 

"  We  had  a  very  pleasant  party — the  Bradfords, 
Lady  Chesterfield,  Mr.  T.  Smith,  and  Professor  Owen. 

1  I  delight  in  my  laundry  (till  now)  a  success.  I 
have  got  such  a  nice  matron  and  I  hope  soon  to  set 
my  own  little  farm  afloat  which  will  be  an  immense 
pleasure,  and  then  I  long  to  begin  a  Co-operative  shop. 
1  D.  Nevill,  licensed  dealer  in  tea,  tobacco,  snuff,  etc' 
will  sound  well. 

"  The  poor  people  are  so  cheated  that  I  should  be 
glad  to  help  them  if  I  could." 

The  laundry  in  question  she  had  built  out  of  her 
own  pocket — a  number  of  poor  girls  being  educated 
free  for  service  there. 

In  connection  with  this  philanthropic  venture  she 
frankly  describe  the  complications  which  occasionally 


74  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

arose  owing  to  correspondents  being  unable  to  make 
out  her  writing. 

She  herself  would  cheerfully  admit  that  her  hand- 
writing was  execrable  ;  the  only  worse  writing,  she 
would  declare,  was  that  of  Lady  Beaconsfield,  whose 
letters  were  often  almost  illegible. 

Though  no  calligraphist  my  mother  was  exceedingly 
clever  at  setting  out  inscriptions,  etc.,  in  Gothic  letters  ; 
she  was  also  gifted  in  the  almost  extinct  art  of  illumina- 
tion so  popular  among  the  monks  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

One  of  the  works  she  executed  was  Hood's  "  Song 
of  the  Shirt,"  another  was  "  The  Service  for  the  Burial 
of  the  Dead  "  which  she  finished  and  signed  in  1848 
when  twenty-two  years  of  age — a  curious  instance  of 
the  strange  mixture  of  seriousness  and  vivacity  which 
went  to  form  a  highly  original  mind. 

The  text  in  Gothic  lettering  executed  with  a  pen, 
besides  being  embellished  with  an  initial  letter  of 
fanciful  design,  is  illustrated  with  foliage  of  an  appro- 
priate kind. 

The  whole  of  this  little  volume  is  a  really  surprising 
composition  to  which  she  must  have  given  much  time 
and  thought — I  say  surprising  because  anything  more 
alien  to  my  mother's  sociable  and  essentially  cheerful 
disposition  than  such  a  work,  those  who  knew  her 
will  easily  conceive. 

Her  masterpiece  in  this  line,  however,  was  an 
historical  and  genealogical  account  of  the  Nevill  family 
taken  from  the  work  by  Daniel  Rowland. 

Every  page  is  beautifully  illuminated  with  a  different 
design,  the  coats  of  arms  being  beautifully  copied  in 
colours  from  those  emblazoned  on  a  manuscript  in 
the  British  Museum  dated  1640  entitled,  "  The  honour- 
able coates  that  are  quartered  by  the  Nevills  in  right 
of  their  birth." 

It  is  possible  that  this  volume  as  a  whole  is  the  most 
important  and  successful  example  of  illuminating  ever 
executed  since  the  Middle  Ages.  The  amount  of  pains- 
taking care  and  work  expended  upon  it  must  have 


BOOK  ILLUMINATION  75 

been  prodigious,  and  considering  the  minute  nature 
of  a  great  number  of  the  letters  and  designs  it  is 
marvellous  that  my  mother's  eyesight  emerged  un- 
scathed from  the  task  she  had  imposed  upon  herself. 

This  volume,  begun  in  1848  and  finished  on 
December  9,  1853,  remains  a  striking  monument  of 
feminine  patience,  industry,  and  artistic  skill. 


CHAPTER    IV 

Tour  abroad — Einsiedel — Coll  cting — A  relic  of  Horace  Walpole — 
The  Miss  Berrys — Pope — Mrs.  Oldfield — Nelson  and  the  Walpoles — 
Burnham  Thorpe  Church  letters — Mr.  H.  N.  Moseley — Letters — Life 
in  East  Sussex — A  rustic  centenarian — Mormonism — Old  ironwork — 
An  interesting  letter — Sunday  observance — The  "Unco  Guid  " — 
Letter  from  Lord  Northcliffe — Visit  to  Norfolk. 


F 


ROM  time  to  time  my  mother  went  abroad  with 
i  her  husband  or  with  her  daughter. 

Writing  to  a  friend  in  1871  she  said : 

"  M.  and  I  have  just  returned  from  a  dear  little 
tour  we  made  1st  to  Brussels  to  see  my  dear  friend  Mr. 
Lumley  who  notwithstanding  a  sad  fit  of  gout  was  so 
kind.  He  has  a  charming  house  and  gives  such 
pleasant  dinners.  We  met  Ld.  R.  Gower,  who  is  very 
artistic  and  dreams  but  of  Art,  etc.,  he  seemed  very 
pleasing.  We  then  went  on  to  Sedan  which  was  very 
interesting.  The  French  I  think  are  improved,  not  so 
childish — how  refined  their  manners  and  talk  and  how 
dirty  their  habits — morality  and  decency  they  know 
nothing  of,  but  yet  with  benefit  we  might  exchange 
a  little  of  our  morality  for  some  of  their  cooking 
virtues,  and  how  different  one  feels  a+  the  Channel 
quite  a  cherubim  without  any  body  whereas  here  one 
feels,  alas,  too  often  one  possesses  that  encumbrance. 

"  We  had  a  most  delightful  tour,"  she  continued, 
"  avoiding  our  compatriots  and  airing  German  and 
French  in  the  most  beautiful  manner.  We  went  to 
witness  a  pilgrimage  at  Einsiedel1  in  Switzerland.  The 
grand  fete  day  is  the  14th.  There  were  11,000  pilgrims, 
and  it  was  beautiful  to  see  their  earnest  piety — tho' 

1  Notre  Dame  d'Einsiedel,  the  Monastery  where  Casanova  nearly 
became  a  monk. 

76 


COLLECTING  77 

misplaced,  as  the  wretched  black  virgin  they  pray  to 
and  whose  shr"ne  they  crowd  with  wax  arms  and  legs 
does  not  seem  to  respond  to  their  calls. 

"  There  was  a  beautiful  procession  at  dark — the 
most  impressive  I  ever  saw — in  fact  I  am  powerless 
to  describe  it  tho'  I  never  can  forget  anything  so 
inspiring. 

"  No  English  were  there — and  no  unbelievers  but 
ourselves — but  we  could  not  help  appreciating  such 
earnest  tho'  misplaced  piety  and  reverence." 

M.,  it  should  be  added,  was  her  daughter  Meresia 
from  whom  my  mother  during  her  long  life  was  scarcely 
ever  separated.  Never  perhaps  did  a  mother  and 
daughter  live  in  such  perfect  accord  which  was  the 
more  remarkable  as  their  dispositions  and  tastes  were 
entirely  different. 

From  an  early  period  of  her  life  my  mother,  who  had 
the  collector's  instinct,  took  an  interest  in  objets  d'art, 
she  loved  curiosity  shops  and  was  always  purchasing 
artistic  trifles. 

One  of  her  ideas  was  to  make  an  illustrated  catalogue 
of  all  the  things  she  had  collected. 

"  How  sad  it  is,"  wrote  she,  "  that  in  this  age  of 
appreciation  of  all  things  artistic  and  curious  we 
should  so  pertinaciously  forget  or  omit  ever  to  take 
notes  of  our  various  possessions,  when  a  wonderful 
history  might  have  been  written  more  eloquent  than 
any  words — of  the  various  little  historical — or  other 
mementoes  to  be  found  in  almost  every  house  of  any 
condition.  You  go  to  some  great  country  house  and 
there  are  miniatures  and  china,  etc,  without  a  notice 
of  their  career  and  adventures — and  I  have  thought 
often  of  this  to  strike  out  a  new  line  and  try  and 
inscribe  all  I  know  of  the  many  curiosities  which  I 
have  collected." 

She  never,  however,  carried  out  her  resolve,  though 
without  doubt  she  might  have  produced  a  very 
interesting  volume. 


78  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

She  was  very  fond  of  odds  and  ends  of  historical 
information,  as  well  as  being  a  collector,  having  indeed 
many  tastes  which,  as  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  once 
wrote  to  her,  "  would  have  delighted  the  soul  of  the 
owner  of  Strawberry  Hill  as  he  sat  in  the  Elysian  fields 
chatting  with  Madame  de  Sevigne  and  the  Due  de  St. 
Simon." 

This  cult  of  the  past,  which  had  been  a  passion 
with  her  since  childhood,  was,  as  she  said,  ever  a  source 
of  perpetual  interest  and  happiness  throughout  her 
long  life.  She  often  deplored  that  so  few  people 
appreciated  or  understood  what  pleasure  may  be 
obtained  from  the  cultivation  of  such  a  taste.  As  was 
but  natural,  she  revered  the  memory  of  her  kinsman 
of  Strawberry  Hill  and  never  failed  to  acquire  any 
relics  of  him  she  could.  It  was  a  great  pleasure  to 
her  a  few  years  before  her  death  when  she  obtained 
possession  of  his  silver  Opera  Ticket,  the  two  sides  of 
which  are  respectively  inscribed,  "  Opera  Subscrip- 
tion, King's  Theatre  "  and  "  Mr.  Horatio  Walpole, 
No.  21." 

This  ticket,  curiously  enough,  was  at  one  time  in 
the  possession  of  the  celebrated  Paddy  Green,1  well 
known  in  connection  with  the  old-time  supper  resort 
"  Evans's." 

In  her  childhood  a  good  many  people  were  still 
alive  who  had  known  the  celebrated  dilettante  of 
Strawberry  Hill  in  the  flesh  and  more  than  once  she 
had  been  taken  to  see  the  Miss  Berrys,  with  either  of 
whom  Horace  Walpole  is  said  to  have  been  ready 
to  go  through  the  marriage  ceremony.  Mary,  his 
"  suavissima  Maria,"  and  Agnes,  his  "  sweet  lamb," 
had  then  reached  a  great  age.  Concerning  this  visit 
my  mother  wrote  :  "  I  must  own  that  I  felt,  as  any 
girl  would,  very  shy  when  I  found  myself  in  the 
presence  of  these  two  celebrities,  and  all  I  could 
notice  was  that  they  were  so  old  and  dried  up  that 
they  looked  to  me  like  two  mummies  or  ghosts.    Shade 

1  See  p.  181. 


POPE  79 

of  my  kinsman,  Horace  Walpole,  how  they  would  have 
horrified  him  !  " 

At  that  time  quite  a  number  of  people  survived 
who  were  links  with  what  would  now  be  considered 
the  remote  past.  Such  a  one  was  the  Dowager  Countess 
of  Hardwicke  (she  only  died  in  1858),  whose  long  life, 
touching  at  its  beginning  on  another  long  life,  brought 
points  of  time  together  which  commonly  seemed 
separated  by  impassable  spaces.  This  lady  was  born 
in  1763,  and  lived  to  ninety-five  years  old.  Her  father, 
the  Scotch  Earl  of  Balcarres,  having  been  well  stricken 
in  years  at  the  time  of  her  birth,  their  two  lives  extend 
back  to  before  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
It  seems  strange  now  to  think  that  Lady  Hardwicke 
could  speak  of  her  father  as  having  been  "  out  in 
Fifteen  "  (1715)  with  Lord  Derwentwater  and  Forster, 
and  having  been  begged  off  by  the  great  Duke  of 
Marlborough. 

For  Sir  Robert  Walpole  and  everything  connected 
with  him  my  mother  had  a  real  veneration — it  was 
pleasant  to  hear  the  charming  intonation  which  she 
gave  to  the  words  "  Sir  Robert."  She  always  spoke 
of  this  ancestor  of  hers  as  if  he  was  still  in  existence, 
though,  as  it  were,  temporarily  away. 

Another  of  her  forbears  for  whom  she  had  a  great 
regard  was  her  great-great-grandmother,  the  vivacious 
and  celebrated  actress  Mrs.  Oldfield — Pope's  Narcissa 
and  "  la  charmante  Ophils  "  of  the  great  Voltaire. 

Of  her  direct  descent  from  this  fascinating  lady  my 
mother  was  exceedingly  proud. 

Pope,  she  often  told  me,  was  her  favourite  poet, 
and  whenever  she  could  she  collected  relics  connected 
with  him. 

Amongst  her  most  treasured  possessions  was  a  little 
writing-desk,  made  partly  of  willow,  reputed  to  have 
belonged  to  this  poet,  who,  the  story  goes,  having 
received  a  present  of  some  figs  from  Turkey,  with  a 
twig  in  the  basket  ready  to  bud,  planted  it  in  his  garden 
where  it  grew  into  a  fine  tree.     From  this  stock,  all 


80  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

the  weeping  willows  in  England  are  sometimes  said 
to  have  originated. 

In  the  library  at  Wolterton — a  library  which  was 
something  better  than  the  ordinary  country  house 
"  Sahara  "  of  obsolete  theological  literature  and  racing 
calendars — was  a  set  of  Pope's  works,  richly  bound 
in  quarto,  which  had  been  presented  to  the  first  Lord 
Walpole  by  the  poet,  in  grateful  recognition  of  some 
assistance  rendered  by  the  former  to  Southcot,  a 
Catholic  priest,  who  through  his  help  obtained  a  good 
abbey  near  Avignon  in  France. 

Pope  had  a  great  regard  for  Sir  Robert  Walpole, 
of  whom  he  wrote  : 

Seen  him  I  have  but  in  his  happier  hour 

Of  Social  Pleasure,  ill  exchanged  for  Pow'r  ; 

Seen  him,  uncumbered  with  the  Venal  tribe, 

Smile  without  Art,  and  win  without  a  Bribe. 

Would  he  oblige  me  ?    let  me  only  find 

He  does  not  think  me  what  he  thinks  mankind. 

Besides  relics  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole  and  of  Pope, 
my  mother  was  fond  of  acquiring  anything  connected 
with  Nelson,  to  whose  memory  she  was  very  devoted. 

For  this  cult  of  the  great  Norfolkian  sailor  she  had 
a  more  valid  reason  than  ordinary  hero-worship. 

The  immortal  admiral  had  been  related  to  her 
ancestor,  the  first  Lord  Walpole  of  Wolterton,  after 
whom  he  was  named  Horatio,  and  the  living  of  Burn- 
ham  Thorpe  had  been  presented  to  Nelson's  father  by 
Lord  Walpole. 

Sir  Robert  Walpole's  brother,  Galfridus,  had 
followed  the  sea,  become  an  admiral  and  had  a  not 
undistinguished  naval  career,  losing  his  right  arm  in 
a  sea-fight  in  the  Mediterranean,  on  which  occasion 
he  was  in  command  of  the  Lion,  a  ship  of  eighty  guns, 
which,  single-handed,  fought  four  French  ships  mount- 
ing sixty  guns  apiece. 

Admiral  Galfridus's  sword  was  one  of  Nelson's  most 
cherished  possessions.    When  the  Rev.  Maurice  Suck- 


NELSON  AND  THE  WALPOLES  81 

ling  married  the  granddaughter  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole's 
sister,  Captain  Suckling  presented  him  with  this 
sword,  the  recipient  in  course  of  time  bequeathing  it 
to  his  grandson,  Horatio  Nelson,  who  always  wore  it, 
and  was  grasping  it  in  his  hand  when  severely  wounded 
at  the  battle  of  Teneriffe. 

Nelson  seems  to  have  kept  in  close  touch  with  the 
Walpoles.  The  following  letter  was  written  by  him 
in  1804  : 

To  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  Walpole. 

Victory, 
Off  Toulon. 
December  29,  1804. 
My  dear  Lord, 

On  this  day  I  received  your  favour  of  May  last, 
or  you  may  believe  it  should  not  have  been  so  long 
unanswered  ;  for  I  do  assure  you,  that  I  have  the 
very  highest  regard,  esteem,  and,  if  I  might  be  allowed 
the  expression,  affection  for  you,  and  every  part  of 
your  family.  Young  Nevill1  is  a  very  excellent  young 
man  and  his  good  conduct  has  not  escaped  my  observa- 
tion ;  and  you  may  rely,  nry  dear  Lord,  not  only 
upon  this,  but  upon  any  occasion  which  may  offer, 
that  I  shall  be  truly  happy  to  meet  your  wishes  ;  for 
I  never  shall  forget  the  many  favours,  kindnesses, 
and  civilities  you  have  shown  me,  and  many  parts 
of  our  family  ;  and  believe  me  ever,  my  dear  Lord, 
your  most  faithful  and  obliged, 

Nelson  and  Bronte. 

I  beg  my  respectful  compliments  to  Lady  Walpole, 
Miss  Walpole,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hussey  if  they  are 
with  you. 

The  family  connection  with  Nelson  no  doubt  led 
my  mother  to  select  the  village  of  Burnham  Thorpe 
(belonging  to  her  father)  to  pass  her  honeymoon  in,  in 
a  house  where  she  declared  Nelson  had  lived  with  his 

1  Ralph,  Viscount  Nevill  who  fought  at  Trafalgar,  uncle  of  the 
writer's  fath 
6 


82  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

mother  while  the  rectory  was  being  repaired.    With 
regard  to  this,  the  late  Lord  Nelson  wrote  : 

Trafalgar, 

Salisbury. 

January  30,  1907. 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  hope  you  will  forgive  my  boldness  in  troubling 
you,  but  I  do  not  forget  that  I  have  Walpole  blood  in 
my  veins,  and  I  have  been  much  interested  in  some 
remarks  in  your  Reminiscences  which  I  am  reading 
with  much  pleasure. 

You  mention  that  you  passed  your  honeymoon  at 
Burnham  Thorpe  in  the  house  in  which  Nelson  was 
born,  as  the  parsonage  was  at  that  time  under  repair. 
Mrs.  Suckling  (Catherine's  mother)  I  know  lived  at 
Burnham  Thorpe  to  help  her  daughter  in  bringing  up 
her  large  family,  and  died  there  within  a  few  days  of 
her  daughter  Catherine.  I  fancy  she  must  have  resided 
in  the  same  house  to  which  you  allude.  I  should  be 
very  much  obliged  if  you  would  tell  me  which  house 
it  is  ;  and  if  you  have  any  family  records  which  would 
point  to  the  fact  of  "  Horatio  "  having  been  born 
there,  or  of  Mrs.  Suckling  having  rented  it  then,  or 
at  a  subsequent  period  ? 

Mrs.  Suckling,  of  Highwood,  near  Romsey,  has  a  lot 
of  the  old  Suckling  family  pictures,  among  them  a 
portrait  of  Mrs.  Suckling  (nie  Turner)  and  her  daughter 
Catherine,  and  her  son  Captain  Maurice  Suckling,  with 
whom  "  Horatio  "  went  to  sea. 

I  see  on  page  88  you  remark  in  reference  to  your 
brother's  Stuart  predilections,  "  a  somewhat  curious 
Cult  for  one  of  his  lineage." 

I  believe  there  is  a  family  picture  at  Houghton,  a 
bunting  picture,  in  which  Mr.  Walpole  is  represented, 
and  his  son  Robert  in  Stuart  colours,  if  so,  they  were 
Jacobites  then.  I  am, 

Yours  faithfully, 

Nelson. 


NELSON  AND  THE  WALPOLES  83 

My  mother  gave  Lord  Nelson  the  information  he 
required,  and  he  wrote  : 

Trafalgar, 

Salisbury. 

February  6,  1907. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  thank  you  much  for  your  information.  The 
Suckling  pictures  were  never  at  your  old  home,  but 
are  interesting  as  being  portraits  of  Catherine  Nelson 
and  her  Mother,  who  was  a  niece  of  Sir  Robert  and 
Galfridus  Walpole.  I  believe  they  were  at  Burnham 
Thorpe  in  the  house  where  Mrs.  Suckling  lived  at 
the  time  of  her  death,  and  were  then  sent  to  Alice 
Rolfe,  a  friend  and  Edmund  Nelson's  sister. 

I  was  sorry  to  find  the  hunting  picture  with  Mr. 
Walpole  and  his  hounds  was  burnt  in  the  pantech- 
nicon fire.  My  Mrs.  Suckling  once  saw  it,  or  at  least 
has  a  tradition  that  Sir  Robert,  as  the  eldest  son,  is 
shown  as  wearing  Stuart  colours. 

I  saw  the  other  day  a  3-quarter  length  of  the 
Admiral  unlike  any  I  had  seen  before,  belonging  to 
Sir  Tollemache  Sinclair  Bart,  of  7  King  Street,  St. 
James'.  It  is  in  a  gallery  in  Pall  Mall  next  the  Guards' 
Club.  I  think  Colnaghi  has  charge  of  it.  Sir 
Tollemache  called  it  an  Abbott  which  it  certainly  is 
not.  I  thought  it  might  be  a  replica  of  your  Lane, 
and  might  be  worth  your  inquiring  about. 

I  am  glad  you  are  having  so  good  a  sale  of  your 
book. 

Yours  truly, 

Nelson. 

My  mother  bitterly  deplored  the  so-called  restora- 
tion to  which  Burnham  Thorpe  Church  was  sub- 
jected 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  in  the  nineties  of  the  last 
century  she  said  : 


84  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

45  Charles  Street, 

Berkeley  Square,  W. 
My  dear  Friend, 

You  always  write  so  well  that  I  never  dare 
so  much  as  answer.  I  have  been  continually  in  the 
train  and  the  time  has  passed  so  quickly.  I  had  a  very 
nice  visit  at  the  Batterseas',  but  Mr.  Aidee  will  tell 
you  all  about  it.  Then  I  went  on  to  my  nephews 
Orford  at  Burnham  where  Nelson  was  born,  and  I 
slept  in  the  same  room  where  the  hero  first  saw  light. 
I  have  such  a  wonderful  liking  for  this  great  man, 
perhaps  because  he  came  from  us,  and  as  his  family 
were  all  particularly  stupid  I  hope  we  may  infer  his 
genius  came  from  the  Walpoles.1  Oh  why  does  the 
country  allow  the  priesthood  to  bedevil  all  the  churches 
as  their  tasteless  intellect  suggests  ?  I  could  hardly 
refrain  from  tears  when  I  went  into  the  village  church 
— everything  brand  new.  The  pew  where  Nelson  sat, 
the  pulpit  and  reading-desk  where  he  used  to  read 
the  lessons,  the  font  in  which  he  was  christened — all 
swept  away — worse  still  the  old  Nelson  graves  like 
old  chest  tombs — the  tops  taken  off  and  laid  on  the 
grass — the  rest  anywhere.  How  such  devastation 
could  be  allowed  I  cannot  think.  The  P.  of  W.  is  very 
responsible  as  he  headed  and  organized  the  carnage — 
for  it  really  almost  amounts  to  that.  I  cannot  get  over 
it.  I  went  to  see  Lady  L.  yesterday ;  she  is  dreading 
going  to  Brighton  Tuesday,  and  is  quite  upset  by 
Dreyfus  and  a  big  thunderstorm  there  was.  She  is 
mad  on  buying  brass  things  that  is  quite  her  hobby. 
Ld.  Wolseley  was  coming  to  see  me  to-day  but  has 
not  appeared.  I  suppose  he  has  had  too  much  to  do. 
Just  as  I  was  writing  he  appeared  but  had  not  any 
news.  He  thinks  what  we  all  think  that  Kruger 
wants  us  to  send  troops,  etc.,  and  then  will  give  in, 

1  Nelson's  maternal  grandmother  was  Mary,  daughter  of  Sir 
Charles  Turner,  Bart.,  by  Mary,  sister  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole  and  of 
Horatio  Walpole  of  Wolterton,  after  whom  the  great  Admiral  was 
named. 


BURNHAM  THORPE  CHURCH     85 

but  the  Transvaal  sinks  into  insignificance  besides 
Dreyfus.  My  little  cottage  is  such  a  dear.  Miss  K. 
Greenaway  came  and  was  so  pleased  with  it,  and  the 
flowers  were  nice  in  spite  of  the  dreadful  drought. 
It  is  a  humble  little  place  but  very  lovable  and  my 
son  Ralph  delights  in  it.    Do  write,  dear. 

Ever  yr.  affec. 

D.  N. 

I  wrote  this  morning  to  H.R.H.  and  at  2  got  an 
answer — he  also  is  shocked  at  the  desecration  of 
Nelson's  church  and  thinks  we  ought  to  tell  Lord 
Nelson. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  this  criticism  was  too  severe. 
When  the  church,  at  the  instigation  of  the  then  Prince 
of  Wales,  was  restored  by  Sir  Robert  Blomfield  in 
1891  the  tower  and  one  aisle  had  fallen  and  the  rest 
of  the  edifice  was  going  to  ruin. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  the  pulpit,  reading-desk 
and  fittings  were  removed — the  plea  being  that  they 
were  too  rotten  to  stand — portions  of  them  were  made 
up  into  a  chest. 

.The  font  is  the  same  one  which  was  there  in  Nelson's 
time ;  its  base  only  was  smashed  by  the  fall  of  the 
tower.  Nelson,  however,  was  not  christened  in  it ; 
he  was  privately  baptized  and  afterwards  received 
into  the  Church. 

When  my  mother  was  at  home  she  was  never  idle. 
Her  leisure  was  spent  either  in  reading  or  in  working 
at  various  forms  of  decorative  work  in  some  of  which 
she  attained  considerable  proficiency. 

She  painted  quite  cleverly  on  china  and  her  carved, 
painted,  or  inlaid  frames  of  wood  and  leather  were 
executed  with  taste  and  skill.  Later  on  in  life  she 
took  great  delight  in  a  form  of  ornamental  paperwork, 
popular  in  the  eighteenth  century  as  a  decoration  for 
tea-caddies  and  boxes. 

My  mother,  who  was  about  the  last  person  at  all 


86  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

proficient  at  this  work,  made  a  number  of  most  artistic 
plaques  and  frames ;  it  is  now,  I  fear,  a  lost  art. 

At  this  period  she  was  in  close  touch  with  many 
leading  lights  of  Science  and  Natural  History.  It  was, 
however,  in  somewhat  later  years  that  she  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  the  one  whom  I  think  she  appreciated 
most  highly  of  all.  This  was  the  late  Mr.  Henry 
Nottidge  Moseley,  a  delightful  man  whose  vast 
intellectual  gifts  were  only  equalled  by  his  great 
personal  charm.  As  a  scientist  he  did  much  valuable 
research  work.  His  Notes  by  a  Naturalist  on  the 
Challenger  approaches  Darwin's  famous  Journal  of  the 
Cruise  of  the  Beagle  in  interest  and  importance. 

Writing  in  1882  to  Lady  Airlie  she  said  : 

"  We  have  had  such  a  pleasant  friend  here,  Professor 
Moseley,  straight  from  reading  his  paper  at  South- 
ampton on  '  Pelagic  remains.' 

"  How  wonderful  the  hidden  treasures  of  science 
are.  He  showed  us  the  photo  of  the  denizens  of  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean." 

Besides  being  a  frequent  visitor  to  my  mother's 
country  house  Mr.  Moseley  wrote  her  many  interesting 
letters. 

He  abominated  everything  which  shackled  intellect. 

16  St.  Giles, 

Oxford. 

October  6,  1881. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  send  you  by  same  post  a  copy  of  Nature 
with  a  full  report  of  my  lecture  and  a  notice  of  the 
Choughs,  p.  556.  I  hope  you  may  have  a  big  flock 
of  the  latter  some  day.  I  have  just  been  on  a  visit 
to  Cambridge  about  a  memorial  to  my  friend  Balfour, 
which  will  very  possibly  take  the  form  of  a  student- 
ship to  enable  young  men  who  have  taken  their  degree 
to  go  in  for  research.    It  is  wonderful  how  much  more 


MR.  H.  N.  MOSELEY  87 

propitious  is  the  general  attitude  with  regard  to  science 
at  Cambridge  than  at  Oxford.  Science  has  always 
been  more  at  home  at  the  sister  University.  I  fear 
we  are  to  have  a  terrible  bigot  as  successor  to  Pusey 
at  Christ  Church,  a  notorious  ritualist  from  St.  John's 
College.  I  hate  and  despise  the  priest-ridden  condi- 
tion of  Gladstone,  but  I  fear  the  conservatives  would 
never  disestablish  the  Church.  I  should  be  quite  con- 
tented if  they  would  do  it  here,  and  let  it  stand  else- 
where. 

I  am  going  to  give  two  lectures  at  the  Society  of 
Arts  in  January,  supposed  to  be  to  children ;  but  I  hear 
the  audience  is  usually  adult  on  such  occasions. 

With  kind  regards, 

Yours  truly, 

H.  N.  Moseley. 

Mr.  Moseley  kept  my  mother  posted  as  to  the  best 
scientific  books. 

16  St.  Giles, 

Oxford. 

September  26,  1882. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  am  delighted  that  you  like  Tylor  I1  The  book 
requires  very  attentive  reading  and  is  rather  hard,  so 
it  should  be  taken  slowly  with  lighter  reading  in 
between,  but  I  am  sure  it  well  repays  efforts  spent  on 
it.  It  is  so  full  of  new  ideas  and  so  delightfully  sugges- 
tive, leaving  so  much  for  one  to  fill  in  for  oneself.  It 
is  amusing  how  carefully  Tylor  steers  clear  of  all 
dangerous  subjects,  just  leading  one  up  to  them  and 
then  dropping  the  thread  suddenly.  Pray  keep  the 
book  as  long  as  you  like,  I  shall  have  no  use  for  it 
for  ever  so  long. 

Some  of  the  fish  I  dredged  in  the  Bristol  Channel 
after  I  left  Stilly ans  have  turned  out  well.     There 

1  Pyimitive  Culture. 


88  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

were  two  Giltheads,  a  kind  of  sea  bream  with  a  golden 
streak  over  the  eye.  They  are  very  rare  in  British 
waters,  but  they  used  to  be  kept  by  the  Romans  in 
their  stewponds  and  fattened  until  they  grew  to  very 
large  sizes,  and  were  considered  great  delicacies. 

Another  fish  we  got  was  a  small  kind  of  sole  which 
has  a  crest  of  long  white  rays  sticking  out  of  its 
snout.  Only  two  skins  of  this  fish  had  ever  been 
procured  before  and  there  was  no  direct  evidence 
whether  it  was  a  British  fish  or  not.  If  we  had 
had  better  weather  we  might  have  done  wonders. 

My  articles  on  Pelagic  Life  will  I  hope  be  out  this 
week,  and  I  shall  send  you  a  copy,  but  I  fear  it  may  be 
rather  too  technical  for  your  reading.  I  am  sorry  the 
egg  came  to  grief.  I  shall  look  out  for  your  notice  and 
will  try  and  get  one  in  Nature  next  week. 

We  are  in  excitement  here  as  to  the  new  appoint- 
ments to  be  made.  It  will  make  a  great  change  if 
Dr.  Liddell,  the  Dean  of  Christ  Church,  goes  to 
Windsor  and  Talbot  takes  his  place.  Gladstone 
lunched  with  Talbot  after  the  Pusey  funeral,  so  there 
appeared  to  be  something  in  store,  besides  Mrs.  T. 
is  Gladstone's  niece ;  but  they  say  either  government 
would  have  given  Talbot  the  Christ  Church  post.  He 
is  a  very  staunch  bigot  I  imagine,  but  a  man  with  an 
opinion  of  his  own  unless  Liddon  and  Co.  are  by. 
I  have  some  hopes  my  friend  Sayce,  the  great  philo- 
logist, may  get  Pusey's  place,  but  there  is  no  knowing 
what  Gladstone  may  do  with  a  semi-ecclesiastical 
appointment.  He  is  very  priest-ridden.  It  is  wonder- 
ful what  a  great  difference  the  shifting  of  a  few  men 
here  may  make  in  the  general  aspect  of  affairs  and 
even  one's  own  personal  happiness.  I  expect 
Noldeke's  book  on  the  Old  Testament  would  sell  very 
well  if  translated  into  English,  but  the  translator 
would  I  fear  be  excommunicated. 

Yours  truly, 

H.  N.  Moseley. 


LETTERS  89 

In  1883  my  mother  met  Renan.  The  great  French- 
man interested  her  a  good  deal,  and  she  wrote  an 
account  of  her  impressions  of  him  to  Mr.  Moseley, 
who  replied  : 

16  St.  Giles, 

Oxford. 

Oct.  24,  1883. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  hope  you  do  not  think  me  rude  for  delaying 
answering  your  kind  note  so  long.  I  waited  day  after 
day  expecting  to  hear  when  I  had  to  be  in  town  for 
a  Civil  Service  Examination.  This  is  now  fixed  for 
the  7th  of  November  ;  but  if  the  Fisheries  is  announced 
to  close  definitely  before  this  I  must  come  up  to  take 
charge  of  the  giant  Japanese  crab  I  have  bought, 
which  I  fear  already  has  its  long  legs  loose  from  its 
body  as  the  result  of  the  wear  and  tear  of  being 
inspected  by  the  millions. 

Your  meeting  with  Renan  must  have  been  delight- 
ful. I  have  written  to  a  friend  of  mine  at  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes  to  ask  for  information  about  the  cranes. 
I  have  no  doubt  he  will  get  it  for  me.  I  wish  I  had 
time  to  write  articles  as  you  suggest,  but  at  present 
I  cannot  get  any  time  free  from  my  teaching.  About 
next  summer  I  hope  to  begin  to  have  much  more 
leisure.  I  have  lately  been  examining  the  old  bits 
of  skin  of  the  Dodo  of  which  we  have  the  only  remains 
here,  and  have  found  the  stumps  of  the  feathers  still 
in  the  dried  skin.  I  have  soaked  them  and  examined 
them  under  the  microscope  and  hope  I  have  found 
out  something  very  interesting  about  them.  They 
are  all  set  in  groups  of  three,  and  this  does  not  occur 
in  any  living  bird. 

I  shall  be  free  at  4.30  on  Nov.  7th  and  should  like 
to  call  on  you  then  and  we  might,  if  it  were  con- 
venient to  you,  pay  a  visit  somewhere  on  the  next 
morning.  If  I  have  to  be  in  town  earlier  I  will  write 
to  you,  but  I  hope  not  as  I  have  a  great  deal  of  work 


90  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

on  hand.  My  wife  is  very  well  and  the  baby  is  showing 
plenty  of  signs  of  intelligence  but  does  not  talk  yet. 
Many  thanks. 

Yours  very  truly, 

(Sgd.)  H.  N.  Moseley. 

Though  well  known  to  modern  scientists  owing  to 
his  great  work  in  connection  with  the  Challenger 
Expedition,  Mr.  Moseley,  who  was  cut  off  in  the  full 
flush  of  manhood,  did  not  live  long  enough  to  have 
the  great  name  which  his  vast  intellect  deserved. 

His  friends,  however,  remember  him  with  affection 
and  respect.  He  made  indeed  a  deep  impression  upon 
all  who  knew  him.  To  the  writer  as  a  boy  fell  the 
great  privilege  of  passing  a  good  deal  of  time  with 
Mr.  Moseley  in  the  country.  This  was  the  most 
valuable  form  of  education  possible,  which  while 
opening  the  eyes  to  the  charms  of  knowledge  for 
knowledge's  sake,  entirely  remoulded  and  broadened 
one's  youthful  ideas. 

It  may  be  added  that  Mr.  Moseley's  son,  said  to 
be  the  cleverest  young  physicist  in  England,  gave  his 
life  for  his  country  in  Gallipoli. 

Mr.  Moseley  several  times  came  to  stay  at  Stillyans, 
in  East  Sussex,  a  house  which  my  mother  took  after 
my  father's  death  in  1878. 

The  house  in  question,  newly  built,  together  with 
considerable  grounds,  she  leased  from  Dr.  Hogge,  a 
great  authority  on  horticulture  in  the  seventies,  who 
had  been  much  interested  in  the  extensive  gardens 
at  Dangstein. 

Dr.  Hogge  had  acquired  a  good  deal  of  land  in  the 
district  of  the  vale  of  Heathfield  which  in  those  days 
was  quite  out  of  the  world.  Since  then,  however, 
houses  and  villas  have  arisen  on  all  sides. 

Writing  to  a  friend  in  1880  my  mother  said  : 

1  The  whole  country  about  is  most  primitive, 
nothing  I  am  sure  has  been  altered  since  Alfred's  time. 


LETTERS  91 


•  I 


Our  hero  is  Jack  Cade  who  was  killed  near  here 
in  1450  and  St.  Dunstan  is  our  Saint. 

"  We  groan  under  the  weight  of  innumerable 
parsons — and  yet  very  few  churches. 

'  No  other  neighbours — but  that  is  what  I  like. 
I  have  my  old  clothes  and  my  occupations  and  few 
worldly  desires  at  present,  but  yet  I  shall  be  so  glad 
to  get  safe  to  London." 

In  another  letter  written  to  Lady  Airlie  she  said  : 

Stillyans, 

Horeham  Road, 
Sussex. 
nth,  1882. 
Dearest  Blanche, 

I  am  very  swaggering  to  undertake  this  large 
sheet  of  paper  when  I  have  nothing  to  say,  but  you 
will  be  merciful  to  me.  I  am  sending  the  plaque  to 
be  burnt  before  putting  the  names  on  to  see  whether 
it  will  be  a  success,  but  I  fear  it  is  so  small,  however, 
I  can  but  try.  I  don't  think  I  should  care  for  the 
ancient  classics,  but  what  interested  me  so  was  the 
history  of  the  literary  men,  particularly  Voltaire,  etc., 
most  admirably  written  by  General  Hamley.  I  have 
read  Tom  Jones,  so  coarse  but  clever,  and  a  curious 
history  of  those  coarse  times.  Justin  McCarthy  is 
writing  a  history  of  the  4  Georges — he  promises  a 
brilliant  account  of  our  dear  Sir  Robert  and  I  am  to 
lend  him  some  books  about  Houghton  and  Sir  Robert. 
I  daresay  it  will  be  very  interesting.  Mr.  Wingfield 
who  wrote  that  charming  Lady  Grizel  is  writing  a 
history  of  G.  the  4th,  but  with  many  new  additions, 
so  I  think  that  will  be  interesting  also.  We  had 
yesterday  a  visit  from  a  wonder  living  here.  An  old 
man  he  was  baptized  in  1783 — and  he  told  our  clergy- 
man that  he  was  4  years  old  when  he  walked  to  church 
to  be  baptized— without  shoes  or  stockings — in  a  plum- 
pudding  coat.    He  is  by  all  accounts  103  and  he  lives 


92  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

with  a  baby  brother  of  82.  He  would  not  do  for  a 
temperance  meeting  for  he  has  been  very  drunk  and 
slept  under  hedges  all  his  life  and  has  never  been  ill 
but  once.  He  remembers  men  going  from  his  village 
for  soldiers  at  Waterloo.  If  he  had  lived  in  a  more 
active  sphere  of  life  what  might  he  not  have  recol- 
lected— as  his  head  is  quite  clear  and  he  walks  about. 
It  was  most  interesting  watching  this  living  fossil. 
We  have  had  lovely  weather  and  yesterday  went  to 
Eastbourne  to  a  flower  show  at  Lady  Fanny  Howard's 
place.  I  had  not  seen  her  for  30  years,  but  she  re- 
cognized me.  She  was  in  a  Bath  chair  surrounded  by 
a  court  of  Howards  and  Cavendishes  and  was  very 
kind.  It  brought  so  many  old  memories  back  to  me 
for  in  old  days  I  saw  so  much  of  all  the  Cavendishes. 
To-morrow,  D.V.,  I  am  to  pay  a  visit  to  Dr.  Siemens 
who  grows  his  plants  by  electricity — and  has  the 
cremating  ovens.    I  think  it  will  be  interesting. 

While  living  in  East  Sussex  my  mother  tried  various 
experiments.  She  had  a  flock  of  black  sheep  (which 
ran  half  over  the  country  easily  jumping  every  kind 
of  obstacle),  and  attempted  to  acclimatize  the  French 
ecrevisse  (or  crayfish)  in  a  little  branch  of  the  Cuck- 
mere  River,  which  flowed  through  her  fields. 

The  black  sheep  owing  to  their  rampagious  habits 
had  soon  to  be  converted  into  mutton.  As  for  the 
ecrevisses  they  vanished  in  the  most  mysterious 
manner. 

A  consignment  of  crayfish  sent  from  France  was  put 
into  what  seemed  a  suitable  pool  enclosed  by  gratings, 
after  a  time  not  so  much  as  even  a  morsel  of  shell  was 
to  be  found.  Another  consignment  shared  exactly 
the  same  fate,  and  Lord  Onslow,  who  made  a  similar 
experiment  in  acclimatization,  informed  my  mother 
that  his  efforts,  like  hers,  had  also  ended  in  disaster. 
Water-rats,  whose  destructive  tendencies  are  difficult 
to  guard  against,  probably  caused  the  disappearance 
of  these  crayfish. 


LIFE  IN  EAST  SUSSEX  93 

She  also  kept  storks  and  Cornish  choughs  which 
she  always  hoped  to  see  breed.  The  storks  laid 
nothing  but  the  choughs  aroused  fallacious  hopes. 
Her  experiences  as  regards  the  latter  she  described 
thus  : 

"  For  many  years  circumstances  obliged  me  to  live 
many  months  of  the  year  in  the  country,  and  being  a 
philosopher  I  adapted  myself  and  took  up  the  thread 
of  my  discoveries  in  Natural  History  by  collecting 
around  me  birds,  plants,  etc. — many  such  as  would 
live  and  thrive  under  domesticated  conditions.  In 
these  pursuits  I  found  very  great  pleasure.  What 
can  the  world  realize  of  happiness  compared  to  the 
excitement  of  watching  day  by  day  the  progress  of 
a  bird  or  plant — what  more  can  we  poor  mortals  wish 
for  or  desire  ?  First  of  all  I  began  with  a  pair  of  Cornish 
Choughs,  or  rather  pairs  of  Choughs,  for  if — which  often 
did  happen — a  misfortune  occurred  to  the  pair, — very 
unromantically  I  supplied  myself  with  a  fresh  couple 
of  these  delightful  birds.  They  came  from  the  coast  of 
Anglesey  where  I  then  had  a  friend  who  procured 
them  from  the  nest.  These  Choughs  were  very  tame, 
following  the  gardeners  closely  whilst  they  were  digging 
— and  picking  up  the  worms  which  came  to  the  surface. 
Year  after  year  they  showed  no  wish  to  nest  or  lay 
eggs.  But  after  many  years,  at  last  the  delightful 
intelligence  was  brought  that  they  were  suspected  of 
making  a  nest  in  a  tower  near  the  house  where  many 
starlings  also  resorted,  and  the  joyous  news  came  that 
there  was  a  nest  of  rude  sticks  roughly  laid  together, 
and  that  in  this  nest  were  two  eggs.  Oh,  the  excite- 
ment of  that  happy  moment  for  the  Naturalist  world. 
Such  an  event  as  Chough  taming  in  semi-confinement 
was  an  event  far  more  than  any  political  or  social 
crisis.  It  was  indeed  a  great  revelation,  but,  alas,  for 
the  vanity  of  human  wishes  and  aspirations.  As  days 
went  on  we  watched,  and  found  the  nest  deserted,  the 
eggs   having   been   thrown   out.     This   was   terrible, 


94  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

knowing  I  had  to  wait  in  lingering  suspense  yet 
another  year.  The  time  passed,  and  at  last  the  old 
nest  was  again  inhabited  and  two  eggs  laid,  and  this 
time  the  faithful  couple  sat  on  them  alternately  with 
great  assiduity,  and  their  efforts  were  rewarded  by 
the  appearance  of  one  sweet  little  beauty.  Oh,  the 
anxiety  as  time  went  on,  to  see  alive  and  in  feathers 
this  long-looked-for  prodigy.  As  time  at  last  went 
on,  the  little  one  appeared  out  of  his  nest  almost 
feathered,  but  to  our  sorrow  and  indignation,  we  found 
out  the  parents  had  hatched  a  starling,  for  the  time 
we  realized  the  fact  that  the  pair  were  both  of  them 
ladies,  who  naturally  could  lay  nothing  but  unfertile 
eggs.  After  this  discovery  I  lost  heart  as  far  as 
Choughs  were  concerned,  and  I  could  hardly  bring 
myself  to  feel  any  further  interest  in  them,  and  when 
my  all-shielding  presence  was  no  longer  there,  they 
went  their  way,  the  way  of  all  flesh,  and  their  bones 
He  buried  somewhere  near  the  scene  of  their  lost 
labours." 

One  of  the  first  things  which  attracted  my  mother 
when  she  went  to  live  in  East  Sussex  was  the  old 
ironwork  to  be  found  in  cottages  and  farmhouses. 
Firebacks,  fire-dogs,  and  tongs  she  especially  liked, 
and  her  taste  for  these  becoming  known  she  soon 
acquired  some  fine  specimens  of  the  work  produced 
by  the  old  Sussex  ironmasters.  In  one  or  two 
instances  she  found  good  old  ironwork  in  the  most 
unlikely  quarters. 

Mormon  missionaries  were  then  very  active  prose- 
lytising about  Heathfield,  and  one  poor  woman  who 
became  infatuated  with  their  promises  gave  her  a  fine 
fireback  before  setting  out  for  Utah. 

My  mother  did  all  she  could  to  counteract  the 
Mormon  propaganda,  and  assured  the  woman  that 
her  husband  would  have  twelve  wives  instead  of  one 
when  they  arrived  at  the  City  of  the  Saints. 

For  the  time  these  remonstrances  had  no  effect, 
but  the  gift  showed  that  they  were  not  altogether 


OLD   IRONWORK  95 

unappreciated,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  woman 
was  back  in  Sussex  within  the  year. 

The  subject  of  the  fireback  was  a  bold  border  of 
apples,  and  the  interior  Neptune  with  a  trident  driving 
sea  monsters,  apparently  about  the  early  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  It  was  a  very  interesting  piece 
of  ironwork. 

Sussex  families  in  the  past  were  fond  of  having 
firebacks  bearing  their  coats-of-arms.  At  Eridge 
Castle  a  good  many  specimens  of  this  sort  of  work 
are  preserved. 

Speaking  of  her  adventures  while  collecting  my 
mother  wrote  : 

"  I  have  been  much  laughed  at  for  so  doing,  and  the 
usual  exclamation  has  invariably  been  made,  on  my 
return  home  laden  with  spoil,  '  What,  more  rubbish  !  ' 
But  having  gone  patiently  on  my  iron  way  rejoicing, 
I  have  been  rewarded  by  knowing  that  not  only  has 
this  pursuit  given  me  great  pleasure  (for  what  is  life 
without  a  pursuit  ?),  but  that  I  have  wasted  neither 
time  nor  money  ;  as  every  one  of  these  articles,  used 
two  centuries  ago  in  common  life,  has  now  become 
obsolete  in  farmhouses,  cottages,  and  elsewhere,  and 
is  therefore  more  valuable.  Those  therefore  who  have 
looked  on  scofnngly  have  at  last  been  obliged  to  own 
that  I  have  not  done  amiss  in  pursuing  this  hobby." 

The  best  specimens  of  ironwork  collected  by  my 
mother  eventually  found  a  place  in  the  Victoria  and 
Albert  Museum  where  they  still  remain. 

At  this  time  she  carried  on  a  correspondence  with 
a  number  of  people  interested  in  old  ironwork.  The 
following  is  an  example  : 

"  HUNSDON," 

MlDHURST. 

March  10,  1885. 
Madame, 

I  am  very  much  obliged  for  your  Ladyship's 
note  and  kind  permission  to  send  the  picture,  etc., 


96  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

which  shall  be  forwarded  in  the  course  of  a  few  days. 
One  of  the  rushsticks  (I  will  mark  which)  was  found 
in  the  Tenant's  Room  in  the  Bohun  Tower  at  Cowdray. 
The  other  comes  from  an  old  farmhouse  at  Thursley 
and  the  tongs  are  said  to  have  belonged  to  Todham 
Manor  House  near  here,  a  fine  old  place  ruthlessly 
destroyed  early  in  this  century.  It  was  in  that  house 
Father  Curry,  the  Jesuit,  was  concealed  in  1592  or 
1593.  I  fear  I  cannot  give  much  information  about 
Sussex  iron.  At  Fernhurst  (of  which  parish  my  father 
was  vicar  32  and  my  grandfather  56  years)  there  was 
a  large  foundry. 

It  was  in  a  wood  called  "  Mine  pits  "  close  to  Lower 
Lodge  farm  on  the  Lynchmere  Road. 

The  iron  rails  round  S.  Paul's  Cathedral  are  said 
(and  I  think  with  some  truth)  to  have  been  cast  here. 

Cannon  for  ships  at  Portsmouth  ;  firebacks  and 
dogs,  many  of  which  are  still  in  the  neighbourhood, 
came  from  this  foundry. 

The  supply  of  ore  failed  about  1776,  but  the  holes 
still  visible  in  many  of  the  woods,  particularly  Parson's 
Coppice  above  the  vicarage,  show  where  it  has  been  dug. 

A  few  French  coins  were  found  two  or  three  years 
ago  near  the  site  of  the  foundry,  probably  some  foreign 
workmen  were  employed.  It  is  a  great  pity  Lord 
Egmont  does  not  investigate  the  ground,  as  I  have 
no  doubt  some  interesting  discoveries  might  be  made. 
There  was  a  very  fine  pond  close  to  the  furnace.  It 
is  now  dry  and  planted.  Fernhurst  was  a  stronghold 
for  smugglers,  and  an  old  man  of  the  name  of  Ether- 
ington,  who  died  some  years  ago,  aged  96,  often 
related  to  me  the  "  runs  "  he  had  assisted  in  when 
he  was  a  young  man. 

Spirits  were  run  across  the  Weald  from  the  coast 
in  J-ankers  (3  gallons)  and  concealed  in  Verdley  Wood 
near  Fernhurst  and  Charlton  Forrest.  Old  E.  told 
me  that  there  is  a  large  subterranean  passage  in  Verdley 
Wood,  not  far  from  the  site  of  the  Castle,  but  I  never 
could  induce  him  to  tell  me  the  exact  spot. 


OLD  IRONWORK  97 

From  local  traditions  it  would  appear  that  the 
forgemen  combined  smuggling  with  smelting  and  were 
a  very  rough,  almost  savage  class. 

There  is  a  very  strong  chalybeate  spring  (one  of 
the  strongest  in  England,  the  water  being  excessively 
nasty)  in  a  wood  not  far  from  the  village,  and  it  is  a 
pity  it  is  not  more  known  and  valued. 

The  lock  which  had  a  key  a  foot  long,  the  hinges 
and  handle  formerly  on  the  south  door  of  St.  Margaret's, 
Fernhurst,  were  of  Sussex  iron.  I  have  the  handle, 
the  others  are,  alas !  lost. 

Mrs.  Roundell's  book  Cowdray  contains  notice  of 
the  Ironworks.  It  is  a  very  interesting  book,  but 
contains  a  number  of  very  dreadful  mistakes,  especially 
in  the  description  and  plan  of  Cowdray  House,  and 
she  places  localities  in  wrong  points  of  the  compass, 
Verdley  being  described  as  "  south  "  of  Midhurst ! !  It 
is  N.E. 

I  will  see  if  I  have  any  more  about  the  Sussex  iron 
trade  amongst  my  MSS.  If  I  have  your  Ladyship 
shall  have  it.  I  do  not  know  if  your  Ladyship  is 
aware  that  some  fine  frescoes  are  said  to  be  under 
the  whitewash  in  Trotton  Church  and  there  was  a 
lovely  awmbrey  lying  in  a  stonemason's  yard  near 
Milland  which  belonged  to  Trotton  Church  some  few 
years  ago.  I  do  not  know  if  it  is  there  now.  It  is 
such  a  pity  they  should  not  be  restored. 
I  am, 

Your  Ladyship's  obedient  Servant, 

(Sgd.)  Arthur  H.  A.  Marriott. 

P.S. — I  forgot  to  say  that  there  are  two  old  steels 
for  kindling  tinder  which  go  with  the  rushsticks  and 
are  included  in  the  price. 

Trotton  Place,  a  fine  old  eighteenth-century  manor- 
house,  together  with  a  certain  amount  of  land,  had  been 
acquired  by  my  father  at  the  same  time  as  the  Dang- 
stein  estate.    During  the  former's  lifetime  it  had  been 

7 


98  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

tenanted  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Knox,  a  very  amusing  man, 
well  known  as  an  ornithologist.  At  his  death,  my 
eldest  brother  and  his  wife  went  to  live  there,  and  in 
course  of  time  the  frescoes  spoken  of  in  this  letter 
were  brought  to  light  by  them. 

Writing  to  a  correspondent  in  September,  1904,  my 
mother  said  : 

"  I  have  been  going  about  a  great  deal,  and  am  now 
with  Miss  N.  here.  I  have  stayed  10  days  at  that  most 
magnificent  place,  Houghton,  which  ought  to  have  been 
ours  but  is  not.  Latterly  I  have  stayed  at  my  son's 
in  Sussex,  and  there  they  are  restoring — I  hope  not 
badly — the  dear  old  Church ;  and  Edward  has  dis- 
covered some  dear  old  frescoes — dear  St.  Hubert  of 
the  time  (by  his  shoes)  of  R.  2nd;1  his  poor  head  has 
never  been  put  in,  the  supposition  is,  the  artist  died 
of  the  plague  before  finishing ;  it  is  all  most  curious, 
and  I  often  think  of  the  dear  old  P.2  church  and  my 
old  friends  the  crusaders.  Do  let  me  know — to  45 — 
what  you  have  been  doing  and  who  you  have  had. 
Have  you  ever  been  to  Weymouth  ?  My  prawn  friend 
has  turned  out  a  delusion,  never  will  send  me  any." 

My  mother's  time  when  in  East  Sussex  was  passed 
as  it  had  been  at  Dangstein  in  looking  after  her  garden 
and  pets,  making  excursions  about  the  county,  in 
illuminating,  carving  picture  frames  and  other  fancy 
work,  in  which  she  excelled.  In  addition  to  this  she 
did  a  great  deal  of  reading,  in  fact  never  for  a  moment 
did  she  allow  time  to  hang  heavy  on  her  hands.  At 
this  period  she  did  a  very  great  deal  of  country-house 
visiting,  managing  one  way  and  another  to  obtain 
plenty  of  variety  in  her  life. 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  she  said  : 

"  I  have  a  dear  pony  who  walks  in  and  out  of  the 
drawing-room  and  dining-rooms  and  we  can  hardly 
persuade  him  to  leave  us. 

1  Richard  the  Second.  2  Puddlctown. 


LETTER  TO  LADY  AIRLIE  99 

11  I  have  plenty  to  do.  I  have  got  the  nurseryman 
to  rechristen  a  fuchsia  he  had  had  the  temerity  to  call 
'  Mr.  Gladstone  ' — '  Lord  Beaconsfield.'  It  has  cost 
me  something  in  orders,  but  the  man  promises  not  to 
transgress  again. 

"  I  hear  both  Duchesses  of  Albany  and  Connaught 
are  to  increase.    Oh  what  rabbits  they  all  are." 

My  mother  had  few  neighbours  in  East  Sussex  and 
so  wrote  frequently  to  her  friends  from  there.  The 
following  is  a  letter  to  Lady  Airlie  written  in 

Still  yans, 

horeham  road. 
23rd. 
Dearest  Blanche, 

I  hope  Grizel  got  my  letter.  I  should  have 
written  to  you,  but  I  have  been  much  away.  You 
will  have  heard  of  M.'s  accident  at  Rome ;  she  did 
not  take  proper  care  and  was  laid  up  again  at  Florence, 
so  I  had  to  wait  at  Paris  for  her,  which  I  did  not  much 
care  for.  I  spent  a  charming  day  at  St.  Cloud  and 
St.  Germains,  etc.,  but  I  don't  care  for  Paris  for  long 
— and  all  the  shop  windows  were  too  immoral,  nothing 
but  ladies  in  their  birthday  suits,  Danaes,  Ledas,  etc. 
— they  (the  French)  are  so  engrained  and  inbornly 
immoral  they  think  nothing  of  anything  in  the  natural 
history  line — and  their  papers  are  full  of  the  most 
irreligious  sayings — it  is  quite  awful.  I  am  very  sorry 
for  poor  Sir  H.  Cole's  death,  I  had  known  him  so  many 
years  and  he  was  much  associated  with  the  Dangstein 
days  that  I  feel  I  have  experienced  a  great  loss,  and 
Mr.  Darwin  was  always  so  kind  and  amiable  to  me 
whenever  I  wrote  to  him.  He  is  indeed  a  country's 
loss — who  will  be  left  alive  soon — it  makes  one  more 
than  ever  think  of  and  realize  the  separations  and 
partings  we  have  to  go  through.  Ralph  and  I  are 
very  happy  here,  tho'  to-day  the  weather  is  the 
"  Diable  " — frightful  winds  and  rain — but  my  flowers 


100  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

and  birds  are  the  green  spot  in  my  life — where  I  turn 
to  when  the  bothers  of  life  assail  me.  They  are  always 
sweet  and  grateful  for  attentions  and  oh  so  lovely — 
mine  is  a  wild  garden  where  every  day  something  fresh 
blossoms.  A  new  clergyman  has  come  here  to-day — 
he  says  he  never  saw  so  benighted  a  place  so  thoroughly 
behind  hand  and  primitive — but  I  fear  from  what  I 
hear  rather  partakes  of  the  Old  Testament  in  its  view 
of  morality.  I  am  not  philanthropic  and  prefer 
animals  to  my  own  species.  Do  let  me  hear  from  you. 
The  Sherbornes  have  sold  their  house  and  have  got 
a  good  price  for  it,  so  she  seems  satisfied.  He  is  pretty 
well  for  him.  Mrs.  Singleton  has  given  me  her  book, 
Sophy,  to  read  and  it  interests  me,  for  it  is  extremely 
odd — it  appears  to  be  something  like  Wuthering 
Heights — I  have  been  moving  about  so  that  I  have 
had  no  time  to  read  much.  What  are  you  about  ? — 
do  let  me  hear  from  you — I  am  always  thinking  of 
you,  dear  good  friend,  and  your  loss  to  me  is  irrepar- 
able. I  have  not  seen  young  Blanche  for  ages  so  have 
heard  nothing  about  you — so  pray  write  and  ease  my 
aching  heart.  Before  I  went  to  Paris  I  had  lots  of 
dinners,  but  none  pleasanter  than  at  Mrs.  Jeune's.1 
I  never  saw  so  happy  a  menage — she  has  done  wisely. 

Ever  yr.  affec. 

Always  direct  to  London.  D.  N. 

The  following  characteristic  letter,  half-grave,  half- 
gay,  she  sent  to  another  great  friend,  the  late  Lady 
Dorchester. 

Stillyans, 

Horeham  Road, 

Sussex. 
Dear  Chattie, 

What  months  since  I  have  heard  or  seen  you. 
I  called  to  say  good-bye,  but  you  were  out.     You 

1  Lady  St.  Helier. 


AN  INTERESTING  LETTER  101 

know  that  I  have  had  a  great  sorrow  in  the  death  of 
my  kind  and  true  friend — the  Duke.1  For  23  years 
he  had  more  or  less  been  my  constant  companion 
and  correspondent,  and  I  cannot  yet  realize  I  shall 
never  see  his  kind  face  again.  His  successors  have 
always  been  most  dear  and  kind  to  me,  but  they  can 
never  replace  him.  I  am  so  glad  to  think  I  wrote 
and  asked  him  here — he  got  that  letter  before  the 
end  came — he  was  always  so  happy  here  with  us  and 
joined  so  amiably  in  all  our  innocent  amusements,  it 
is  too  sad ;  and  I  have  had  another  terrible  loss  in 
"our  only  General"2  who  used  to  pop  in  so  often 
during  the  winter  to  cheer  me  up.  After  London  I 
went  a  tour  of  Rothschilds — Aston  Clinton,  Mentmore, 
Halt  on,  etc. — all  were  delightful.  Lord  Rosebery  was 
charming  and  she  is  immensely  improved.  I  ended  by 
Bayham  and  Eridge  with  polo,  lawn  tennis,  and 
cricket,  and  although  these  were  not  the  fields  of  glory 
in  which  I  care  to  dwell,  yet  the  fine  weather,  etc., 
made  it  all  very  pleasant. 

We  are  here  now  living  in  the  odour  of  sanctity  as 
my  sister-in-law  is  here,  very  good  in  every  sense  of 
the  word,  and  my  old  governess  and  her  sister,  and 
they  have  never  yet  come  out  of  the  garden  of  Eden. 
I  am  bursting  with  goodness.  It  will  be  quite  a  relief 
to  see  or  hear  of  something  to  the  contrary.  I  had  a 
most  pleasant  visit  at  the  Dowager  Lady  de  Clifford's 
— a  trinity  of  Lady  de  C,  Miss  Rhoda  Broughton  and 
myself — and  we  never  once  missed  or  deplored  the 
male  species.    Do  let  me  hear  from  you,  dear  friend. 

Ever  your  affec. 

D.  Nevill. 

The  sister-in-law  alluded  to  was  the  widow  of  my 
mother's  blind  brother,  the  Hon.  Henry  Walpole,  who 
was   very   fond   of   passing   an   austere   Sunday   and 

1  The  2nd  Duke  of  Wellington. 

1  Lord  Wolseley,  who  had  gone  away. 


102  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

attending  as  many  services  as  possible.  My  mother 
did  not  very  much  like  being  driven  to  church  more 
than  once  on  Sunday.  She  had  no  Sabbatarian  pre- 
judices and,  like  her  friend  Bernal  Osborne,  was 
inclined  to  regard  the  English  Sunday  as  a  day  on 
which  much  indolent  ineptitude  is  allowed  to  pass  for 
religious  repose  ;  nevertheless,  being  good  natured, 
her  sister-in-law  generally  got  her  way. 

My  mother,  however,  got  some  compensation  by 
taking  a  humorous  view  of  this  religious  terrorism. 

"  My  dear,"  said  she  to  one  of  the  family,  "  a 
Church  to  Cecilia  is  like  a  Public  House  to  a  drunkard. 
She  simply  cannot  pass  it  !  " 

My  mother  rather  mistrusted  those  who  suddenly 
developed  an  excessive  zeal  for  church-going. 

Alluding  to  a  certain  young  man  who  had  been 
sowing  wild  oats  in  extraordinary  profusion  she  wrote 
to  a  friend  : 

"  I  hear  is  turning  over  a  new  leaf — has  his 

aunt  staying  with  him  and  invites  all  the  neighbour- 
hood to  stay — goes  to  church  twice  a  Sunday  (this 
sounds  rather  bad)." 

Though  a  regular  church-goer  herself,  she  had  no 
sympathy  with  the  "  dour  folk  '  who  attach  undue 
importance  to  ceremonial  or  dogma.  A  heaven 
entirely  composed  of  such  people,  she  frankly  declared, 
would  be  so  unendurable  that  in  time  one  would  come 
to  long  for  the  alternative. 

As  an  Etonian  poet  once  wrote  : 

The  tortures  at  first,  of  course,  would  be  worse 

But  custom  their  rigours  would  soften, 
While  those  who  are  bored  in  praising  the  Lord 

Would  be  more  so  in  praising  him  often. 

Mrs.  Walpole,  it  may  be  added,  was  very  well 
known  to  the  English  residents  at  Rome  where  she 
used  to  pass  her  winters.  She  took  great  interest  in 
the  English  Church  there,  indeed  her  whole  existence 


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THE  "UNCO  GUID"  103 

after  her  husband's  death  was  more  or  less  concen- 
trated upon  Church  matters.  Though  a  most  kindly 
and  charitable  woman  she  had  a  good  deal  of  that 
curious  bigotry  which  was  so  prevalent  in  mid- 
Victorian  times.  The  bigotry  in  question  was  not 
infrequently  carried  to  absurd  lengths  ;  one  of  its 
most  striking  demonstrations  was  a  petition  presented 
to  the  United  States  Congress  by  some  zealots  who 
entertained  strong  religious  objections  against  the  use 
of  oil.  The  signatories  to  this  remarkable  document 
prayed  that  a  stop  might  be  put  to  the  irreverent  and 
irreligious  proceedings  of  various  citizens  in  drawing 
petroleum  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  thus  "  check- 
ing the  designs  of  the  Almighty,"  who,  they  said,  had 
undoubtedly  stored  it  there  with  a  view  to  the  last 
day  "  when  all  things  shall  be  destroyed." 

The  vagaries  of  superstition  should  cause  no  thought- 
ful person  to  wonder.  "  No  learning,  no  sagacity 
affords  a  security  against  the  greatest  errors  on 
subjects  relating  to  the  invisible  world." 

Dr.  Johnson  would  not  believe  in  the  earthquake 
of  Lisbon,  but  was  willing  to  believe  in  the  Cock  Lane 
ghost  ! 

From  her  cottage  at  Haslemere  my  mother  often 
made  pleasant  excursions.  She  had  always  been 
interested  in  Sutton  Place,  near  Guildford,  and  so  went 
with  great  pleasure  to  stay  there  with  Lord  Northcliffe 
(then  Mr.  Alfred  Harms  worth). 

The  first  time  she  met  the  Napoleon  of  the  Press 
my  mother  took  a  great  liking  for  him. 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  she  said  : 

Moss  Hill  House, 

Ascot. 
My  very  dear  kind  Friend, 

.  .  .  Well,  dear,  I  came  here  to-day  after  so  many 
visits.  To  my  dear  nephew  Orford  who  is  doing  up 
our  magnificent  family  mansion — then  on  to  Cromer 
.  .  .  then  on  to  a  house  I  have  been  longing  to  see 


104  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

"  Sutton  Place  " — lovely — the  only  house  except  Con- 
dover  which  has  terra-cotta  ornaments  all  through  the 
facades  and  the  windows — too  charming. 

I  like  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harmsworth  very  much.  They  have 
no  wish  to  get  on  and  never  seek  society — immensely 
rich  and  I  am  told  so  good  and  kind  to  poorer  friends, 
and  I  am  here  till  9th  when,  D.  V.,  I  shall  go  into  Dorset- 
shire and  then  I  hope  to  settle  in  London. 

I  was  at  my  cottage  last  night  and  I  occupied  myself 
with  looking  over  my  old  letters — dear  kind  ones  from 
you,  otherwise  too  many  heart-breaking  records  of 
dear  affectionate  old  friends. 

Lord  and  Lady  Northcliffe  never  failed  to  send  her 
pictorial  post  cards  during  their  travels  abroad,  and 
when  they  passed  the  summer  in  England  she  was 
often  a  visitor  to  their  lovely  home  at  Sutton  Place, 
concerning  which  her  old  friend,  Mr.  Frederick 
Harrison,  had  years  before  written  a  book  which  had 
interested  her  greatly.  Her  host  and  hostess  much 
appreciated  these  visits,  and  one  summer,  when  they 
were  out  of  England,  the  former  sent  her  the  follow- 
ing gracefully  turned  letter  from  the  S.S.  Mauretania  : 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Not  the  least  of  the  disappointments  attendant 
upon  a  long  illness,  such  as  I  have  had,  was  the  missing 
of  the  annual  meeting  with  old  friends,  and  I  beg  that 
you  will  let  me  count  myself  in  that  happy  category. 
Briefly,  it  is  now  20  years  since  I  first  saw  you  and 
your  cigarette. 

My  lady  and  I  are  speeding  to  our  home  in  New- 
foundland— don't  shudder,  it  compares  most  favour- 
ably with  Deeside,  and  our  little  Frenchman  Bandequin 
is  already  there  with  his  casseroles  and  quails. 

We  have  sent  out  the  S.P.  Zenaida  to  meet  us  at 
Montreal  and  take  us  to  the  island,  where  the  fishing 
and  the  shooting  and  the  paper-making  are  all  of  the 
best. 


LORD  NORTHCLIFFE'S  LETTER        105 

My  lady  and  I  were  talking  of  you  to-day,  regretting 
the  Dorothyless  summer  and  feeling  sad  that  one  can- 
not make  a  summer  to  order  as  one  commands  a 
souffle — if  we  could  I  can  assure  you  that  its  chiefest 
ingredient  would  be  a  Dorothy  Walpole  visit  to  Sutton 
Place. 

We  will  send  some  post  cards  from  Yankee  land 
and  ask  that  we  may  subscribe  ourselves 
Your  affectionate 

NORTHCLIFFE   AND    HlS   MARY  N. 

There  was  nothing  my  mother  loved  more  than  old 
houses,  and  she  often  went  to  Norfolk  there  to  revisit 
the  scenes  of  her  childhood. 

For  many  years  she  used  to  go  and  stay  at  Mann- 
ington  Hall,  a  small  manor-house  which  had  been 
most  tastefully  put  in  order  by  her  brother. 

Concerning  this  visit  she  wrote  to  Lady  Airlie  : 

Maid's  Head  Hotel, 

Norwich. 

17th. 
First,  my  dear,  I  will  thank  you  for  the  grouse 
which  M.  had  and  loved — so  many  thanks  I  had  such 
a  dear  visit  at  my  nephew's  such  a  delightful  place 
with  a  moat  of  running  water  where  Dorothy  the  2nd 
fishes  for  our  breakfast,  and  then  of  a  night  my  nephew 
Robin  and  I  poured  over  all  the  books  containing 
sayings  and  doings  of  our  ancestors — and  then  1  day 
we  went  over  to  see  lovely  Blickling  and  its  charming 
hostess — another  day  to  a  far-off  estate  that  Robin 
has  and  where  my  dear  Lady  Bath  has  taken  a  house 
by  the  sea  for  a  month  or  2,  and  we  had  tea  with  her 
there.  Every  day  we  took  drives  to  some  interesting 
spot  endeared  to  me  by  memories  of  my  dear  ones. 
Cromer  was  very  pleasant ;  you  know  how  kind  and 
dear  the  Batterseas  are.  I  wish  all  Xtians  were  like 
them — they  do  indeed  follow  the  precept  of  our  Lord 


106  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

in  love  and  charity.  After  Mannington  I  went  to  the 
above-named  Hotel,  where  they  still  keep  Q.  Elizabeth's 
bedroom  as  she  left  it.  Most  comfortable  the  old  Hostel 
is,  and  I  went  yesterday  to  service  at  the  Cathedral, 
and  the  service  was  beautiful  and  the  anthem,  I  can 
find  no  words  to  describe,  i  of  Sir  A.  Sullivan's ;  but 
somehow  or  other  I  felt  very  solitary  and  forlorn  in 
this  large  Inn  without  a  kindred  soul  to  speak  to,  in 
fact  I  thought  of  Hood's 

Oh  it  was  pitiful 
In  a  great  city  full 
Friends  she  had  none — 

but  I  had  the  Dean,  whose  pew  I  went  into,  and  lunch 
after.  He  gave  me  his  memorial  sermon  on  Garfield 
when  he  was  at  Liverpool — most  touching — now,  dear, 
Addio.  I  go  to  my  cottage  12  to  21  March  or  to  26th 
and  about  4  October  we  settle  here.  I  shall  be  glad  to 
be  settled  again — do  write. 

Your  affec. 

D.  Nevill. 
My  stylo  has  stopped. 


CHAPTER    V 

Social  life  in  the  eighties — Lady  St.  Helier — Sunday  lunches — The 
Fourth  Party — Sir  John  Gorst — Sir  Henry  Drummond-Wolff — Lord 
Randolph  Churchill — Letter  from  John  Bright — Lord  Glenesk — Lady 
Bathurst — Mr.  Joseph  ChamLerlain — Letters — Lord  Wolseley — Letters 
— Sir  Henry  Brackenbury — The  Duke  of  Cambridge — His  resigna- 
tion— Sir  Henry  Irving — Mr.  Choate — Roast  guinea-pig — Mr.  George 
Russell. 

THOUGH  the  worship  of  wealth  had  not 
reached  such  an  extreme  pitch  in  the  eighties, 
the  old  restrictions  were  beginning  to  be 
relaxed. 

It  was  the  age  of  "  social  lions "  and  people 
specialized  in  various  sorts  of  guests.  At  certain 
houses  you  were  sure  to  meet  all  the  chief  literary, 
artistic,  and  political  celebrities  of  London,  besides 
interesting  or  celebrated  foreign  visitors. 

Clever  Lady  St.  Helier,  then  Mrs.  Jeune,  for 
instance,  occupied  a  recognized  position  as  a  hostess 
who  could  always  secure  a  plentiful  supply  of  Ministers, 
ex-Ministers,  or  Ministers  yet  to  be,  in  addition  to 
which  by  way  of  a  light  relief  she  was  in  the  habit  of 
inviting  everyone  who  was  celebrated  or  interesting. 
Her  parties  were  quite  unique,  and  it  was  wonderful 
how  this  extremely  gifted  lady  managed  to  know 
individuals  in  such  widely  different  spheres  of  life. 

My  mother  operated  as  it  were  in  something  of  the 
same  line,  though  on  a  smaller  scale,  for  she  only 
gave  luncheons. 

As  Disraeli  said  of  Vavasour,  she  liked  to  collect 
from  time  to  time  guests  of  the  most  opposite  characters 
and  opinions,  and  as  she  chose  her  guests  with  great 
tact  her  Sunday  luncheons  became  extremely  popular. 
Her    system    of    issuing    invitations    was    once    well 

107 


108  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

described  as  being  "  discriminatingly  indiscriminate." 
Some  shining  lights  of  the  Conservative  party  were 
sure  to  be  present,  the  rest  of  the  guests  being  recruited 
by  raids  into  Upper  Bohemia  from  which  the  hostess 
returned  with  authors,  journalists,  actors,  actresses, 
or  other  agreeable  and  amusing  people.  Such  a  method 
of  making  up  a  luncheon  party  required  a  good  deal 
of  social  flair  and  tact,  but  owing  to  the  hostess 
knowing  pretty  well  everybody  and  being  the  con- 
fidante of  so  many  different  people  everything  generally 
went  off  well. 

As  was  aptly  said,  London  society  to  her  was  one 
long  whispering  gallery  in  the  middle  of  which  she 
occupied  such  a  position  that  not  a  voice  or  a  footfall 
could  sound  without  reaching  her  ears.  Though  pro- 
fessedly a  Tory  she  never  allowed  her  politics  to 
prevent  her  from  asking  an  agreeable  or  clever  Radical 
to  her  house.  She  was  careful,  however,  not  to  offend 
the  susceptibilities  of  old-fashioned  or  bigoted  Con- 
servatives and,  when  they  were  guests,  took  care  to 
provide  a  few  clever  or  amusing  non-political  people 
to  act  as  lightning  conductors,  and  prevent  the 
possibility  of  any  heated  controversy. 

To  certain  special  Sunday  luncheons,  however,  she 
asked  only  a  few  leading  lights  of  the  Conservative 
party,  or  people  not  entirely  out  of  sympathy  with 
its  aims — a  wavering  Liberal  likely  to  be  useful  in 
the  future  was  sometimes  included.  While  my 
mother  herself  was  toleration  personified  she  felt  the 
need  of  regulating  her  hospitable  rites  so  that  they 
should  redound  to  the  credit  and  advantage  of  the 
constitutional  cause. 

There  was  generally  a  good  deal  of  chaff  at  these 
luncheons,  the  younger  Conservatives  being  apt  to 
make  fun  of  the  old  school  of  politicians.  The  late 
Lord  Iddesleigh,  then  Sir  Stafford  Northcote,  was 
always  being  laughed  at  by  Sir  Henry  Wolff  and  Lord 
Randolph,  so  much  so  that  occasionally  my  mother, 
who  particularly  liked  this  old-fashioned  Conservative, 


SIR  JOHN  GORST  109 

would  have  difficulty  in  restraining  their  too  exuberant 
sallies. 

Mr.  Gladstone  usually  came  in  for  a  great  deal  of 
caustic  criticism,  his  adroit  methods  of  extricating 
himself  from  awkward  predicaments  never  failing  to 
arouse  great  amusement. 

My  mother  was  possessed  of  great  social  tact  and 
able,  though  a  good  talker,  to  keep  silent  at  the  right 
time,  and  consequently  her  political  friends  found  her 
lunches  a  pleasant  relaxation,  besides  which,  knowing 
how  discreet  their  hostess  was,  they  could  freely  dis- 
cuss political  moves  and  counter-moves.  Three  mem- 
bers of  the  curious  little  coterie  known  as  the  Fourth 
Party  were  almost  invariably  to  be  found  at  these 
Sunday  lunches.  These  were  Lord  Randolph  Churchill, 
Sir  Henry  Drummond-Wolff,  who  then  enjoyed  a  great 
and  in  a  measure  deserved  reputation  as  a  raconteur, 
and  Sir  John  Gorst — the  last  survivor  of  the  trio  who 
died  but  a  short  while  ago. 

Sir  John,  while  perhaps  not  such  an  animated  or 
vivacious  conversationalist  as  his  colleagues,  had  a 
peculiar  knack  of  saying  the  most  incisive  things  in  a 
soft  and  flute-like  voice.  Though  he  did  not  push  his 
altruistic  ideas  forward  in  society  he  was  undoubtedly 
animated  by  a  sincere  passion  for  social  reform 
which  made  no  particular  appeal  to  either  of  his 
colleagues. 

A  salient  characteristic  of  this  clever  politician,  who 
was  scarcely  appreciated  at  his  proper  worth,  was  an 
incurable  independence  of  spirit  which  in  later  years 
after  he  had  held  many  offices  in  Unionist  Govern- 
ments gained  for  him  the  nickname  of  the  "  riddle  of 
the  Treasury  Bench."  He  was  an  exceptionally  high- 
minded  man  and  to  his  great  credit  it  should  be 
remembered  that  he  set  a  good  example  by  giving  up 
a  political  pension  of  £1,500  a  year  when  he  succeeded 
to  his  brother's  estate. 

Sir  Henry  Drummond-Wolff  was  my  mother's  first 
cousin,  being  the  son  of  her  aunt  Lady  Georgina  Wal- 


110  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

pole  who  married  the  celebrated  traveller  and  mis- 
sionary, Dr.  Joseph  Wolff. 

The  son  born  of  this  marriage  was  from  boyhood 
upwards  an  irrepressible  joker.  Indeed,  he  was  said  to 
have  been  the  only  man  who  had  ever  dared  to  tell  the 
late  Lord  Salisbury  a  risque  story. 

Sir  Henry  was  such  an  amusing  raconteur  that  it 
was  almost  impossible  for  anyone  to  be  annoyed ; 
besides,  his  stories  were  never  personal  or  ill-natured. 
His  humour  was  of  the  peculiarly  agreeable  kind 
which  does  not  require  a  butt. 

On  the  other  hand,  his  wit  was  rather  unequal, 
giving  the  impression  that  he  failed  to  gauge  the 
difference  between  a  really  whimsical  idea  and  a 
commonplace  joke.  He  would  spoil  the  effect  of  a 
really  good  story  by  telling  a  "  chestnut  "  immediately 
after;  he  joked  too  much  for  his  sallies  to  be  entirely 
effective. 

As  a  man  Sir  Henry  may  be  described  as  having 
been  a  genial  and  exceedingly  good-natured  cynic,  ever 
ready  to  do  a  friend  a  kindness,  and  no  one's  enemy 
but  his  own. 

At  the  same  time  his  profound  disbelief  in  human 
nature  and  human  institutions  he  never  attempted 
to  conceal.  Nevertheless,  notwithstanding  his  ten- 
dency to  treat  everything  as  a  joke  or  as  a  peg  on  which 
to  hang  a  good  story,  he  was  fairly  serious  about 
politics,  upon  which,  till  he  gained  high  diplomatic 
rank,  his  whole  mind  and  energies  centred.  On  one 
subject  he  felt  very  strongly  which  was  cruelty  to 
animals  in  general  and  vivisection  in  particular.  He 
was  essentially  a  party  man  and  most  measures  were 
to  him  more  or  less  moves  in  a  rather  interesting 
game,  in  which  certain  prizes  were  to  be  gained  by 
those  who  played  it  with  sufficient  address  to  get  the 
better  of  their  opponents. 

Lord  Randolph,  though  a  man  of  moods,  could  be 
just  as  full  of  sparkling  repartee  and  fun  as  his 
colleague;   he  was  of  course  far  more  of  a  society 


LORD  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL    111 

fldneiir  than  is  his  son — that  fretted  soul,  as  a  cynic 
rather  wickedly  said,  who  cannot  make  up  his  mind 
as  to  whether  he  is  Nelson  or  Napoleon  ! 

Lord  Randolph  when  in  a  good  mood  was  a  brilliant 
and  audacious  conversationalist,  and  few  were  able 
to  excel  him  in  quickness  and  facility  of  expression, 
while  at  times  he  would  exhibit  a  gaiety  which  was 
very  contagious.  Nevertheless,  he  would  never  allow 
the  tone  of  the  conversation  thus  engendered  to 
degenerate  into  familiarity,  and  would  be  quick  to 
resent  any  approach  to  it — he  had  indeed  a  keen 
sense  of  the  dignity  which  was  traditionally  supposed 
to  pertain  to  an  English  aristocrat,  in  addition  to  which 
he  was  a  man  of  quickly  varying  temper,  rather  apt 
to  take  offence  and  not  easily  placated  when  roused. 

Lord  Randolph  was  quite  uncompromising  in  his 
political  hostility.  As  he  himself  said,  "  the  business 
of  an  Opposition  is  to  oppose,"  and  in  the  zenith  of 
his  career  he  fought  the  Liberals  with  unflinching 
vigour — his  sallies  and  outbursts  indeed  occasionally 
drew  forth  remonstrances  from  staid  and  severe 
colleagues,  but  they  affected  him  but  little.  He  had 
an  intuitive  perception  of  the  trend  of  the  times  and 
well  realized  that  there  was  to  be  more  gained 
than  lost  by  not  sticking  at  trifles  in  a  democratic 
age. 

For  a  time  he  was,  next  to  Mr.  Gladstone,  the  best- 
known  political  figure  in  England.  The  London  cab- 
men and  omnibus  drivers  were  well  acquainted  with 
him  by  sight,  and  took  delight  in  pointing  him  out  to 
fares.  Music-hall  ditties  were  written  in  his  honour, 
and  the  mere  mention  of  his  name  on  the  lighter 
stage  was  sufficient  to  evoke  much  admiring  laughter. 

His  colleagues  believed  in  him,  Mr.  Joseph  Chamber- 
lain, for  instance,  wrote  to  my  mother  : 

"  I  see  the  Daily  News  says  that  Lord  Randolph 
is  to  lead  the  House,  and  I  heard  yesterday  that  Hicks- 
Beach  says  he  would  like  to  surrender  the  place — of 


112  LADY  DOROTHY  NEV1LL 

course  he  was  only  put  there  to  be  a  warming-pan 
for  my  Lord.  I  believe  in  Lord  Randolph.  It  is  only 
the  old  dodo  lot  of  Tories,  who  hate  clever  young  men, 
who  are  against  him." 

The  pity  of  it  was  that  Lord  Randolph  eventually 
came  to  think  himself  too  clever  ever  to  be  dispensed 
with. 

A  critic  speaking  of  Lord  Randolph  once  compared 
him  to  Sarah  Bernhardt,  declaring  that  while,  like  her, 
he  could  be  strenuous,  energetic,  and  industrious,  he 
also  possessed  something  of  the  genius,  much  of  the 
emotional  excitability  and  much  of  the  same  combina- 
tion of  opposite  qualities  which  belonged  to  the  incom- 
parable artist,  who,  a  short  time  before,  had  wedded 
a  husband  for  the  sake  of  a  caprice. 

Always  very  outspoken  in  his  letters  as  to  his  likes 
and  dislikes,  he  seldom  failed  to  express  disapproval 
when  he  found  anyone  unsympathetic  to  him  was  to 
be  asked  to  one  of  the  Sunday  luncheon  parties. 

"  I  hear,"  wrote  he  in  another,  "  of  your  keeping 
dreadful   company — Joseph   Arch.      But    even   he   is 

much  better  than  that  beggar "     (naming  a  very 

serious  Whig  politician  whom  he  did  not  like). 

Lord  Randolph  was  a  staunch  friend  to  those  whom 
he  liked,  and  made  their  quarrels  his  own. 

"  I  have  no  particular  cause  of  quarrel  "  (he  wrote) 

"  with  Mr.  ,  except  this,  that  some  time  ago  he 

was  disposed  to  be  very  disagreeable  to  our  friend 
Wolff,  and  utterly  declined  to  listen  to  any  representa- 
tions of  mine.  What  he  has  done  in  the  matter  since 
I  do  not  know,  but  as  Wolff  appears  to  be  flourishing 
I  presume  .  .  .  has  not  been  troubling  him.  I  suppose 
your  town  season  is  over,  and  this  Parliament  will 
not  be  assisted  in  its  labours  by  the  Charles  Street 
Sunday  Cabinets. 

"  Now  that  your  friend  .  .  .  [the  Whig  politician 
mentioned  above]  is  out  of  office  I  fear  he  will  take  up 
his  abode  en  permanence  in  No.  45. 


LORD  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL   113 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  know  and  like  H.  Matthews 
(afterwards  Lord  Llandaff).  I  have  the  greatest  con- 
fidence in  his  turning  out  a  first-rate  Home  Secretary. 

"  Believe  me, 

"  Ever  yours, 

"  Randolph  S.  C." 


Lord  Randolph  in  spite  of  his  somewhat  excitable 
disposition  was  capable  of  forming  very  sound  judg- 
ments. When  a  great  outcry  was  raised  against  my 
mother's  old  friend  Mr.  Newton,  a  Metropolitan  police 
magistrate  who  acted  rather  drastically  in  connection 
with  a  young  woman's  arrest,  he  wrote  : 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  think  it  is  extremely  probable  that  Mr. 
Newton  is  receiving  a  very  scanty  measure  of  justice. 
In  these  matters  the  public  is  always  very  heedless 
in  the  selection  of  a  scapegoat.  It  is  not  however  an 
affair  in  which  I  could  interfere  to  any  advantage. 

I  never  have  any  communication  with  the  Govt, 
of  any  sort  or  kind. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Randolph  S.  Churchill. 
July  26,  1889. 

When  Lord  Randolph  left  the  Conservative  Govern- 
ment considerable  bitterness  against  him  was  shown 
by  some  of  his  late  colleagues  in  the  Cabinet.  Mr. 
Joseph  Chamberlain,  writing  to  my  mother  in  August, 
1889,  said  : 

"  R.  C.  went  to  Birmingham  after  a  great  blowing  of 
the  Marlborough  trumpets.  He  was  going  to  smash 
us  and  the  Union  and  the  Government  ! 

"  '  Marlbrook  s'en  va  t'en  guerre.'  The  result  is  a 
fiasco — he  offended  everyone  including  some  of  his 
warmest  supporters  and  only  succeeded  in  delighting 

8 


114  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

the  Gladstonians.     If  he  were  to  stand  now  against 
Bright  he  would  get  a  well-deserved  licking." 

John  Bright,  though  a  friend  of  my  mother's, 
never  came  to  her  luncheons,  he  paid  her  visits,  how- 
ever, and  was  an  occasional  correspondent.  In  1883 
he  wrote  : 

Reform  Club, 

Pall  Mall,  S.W. 

August  15. 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy  Nevill, 

I  send  you  a  portrait,  not  so  good  as  I  could 
have  wished,  but  the  best  I  have  been  able  to  find, 
fair  writing  upon  it  is  not  possible. 

You  speak  of  your  regime  of  "  innocence  and  con- 
servatism," I  wish  they  always  went  together,  as  I  fear 
and  believe  they  have  not  done  in  our  past  history. 

The  world  seems  somewhat  disturbed.  In  this 
country  I  think  the  most  disturbing  element  is  the 
House  of  Lords,  with  such  a  Leader  as  it  is  now 
supposed  to  follow.  I  hope  this  observation  will  not 
make  you  unhappy. 

Our  Empire  "  on  which  the  sun  never  sets  "  has  a 
crowd  of  troubles  and  dangers  before  it,  but  I  suppose 
the  greatness  of  the  Empire  compensates  for  all  its 
attendant  evils. 

Forgive  me  if  I  write  what  is  not  soothing  to  an 
acute  observer  like  yourself,  and  believe  me  always, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

(Sgd.)  John  Bright. 

You  will  see  that  one  of  my  grandchildren  accom- 
panies me  in  the  photograph.  He  is  not  a  bad  specimen 
of  the  next  generation  of  Liberals. 

Though  at  that  time  much  interested  in  the  fortunes 
of  the  Conservative  party  in  general,  and  the  Fourth 
Party  in  particular,  my  mother  took  care  to  leaven 
her    luncheons   with    a    sprinkling    of    other    guests. 


LORD  GLENESK  115 

Journalism  was  represented  by  Lord  Glenesk,  who  as 
Sir  Algernon  Borthwick  was  themdoing  so  much  good 
work  for  the  Conservative  cause.* 

The  death  of  this  old  friend  (at  whose  beautiful 
villa  at  Cannes  she  spent  many  pleasant  springtimes) 
was  a  sad  blow  to  my  mother.  He  had  had  a  most 
interesting  life,  but  as  he  kept  no  diary,  his  stories 
(of  which  he  had  many  to  tell),  with  the  exception  of 
those  written  down  from  time  to  time  by  his  daughter, 
Lady  Bathurst,  have  unfortunately  been  lost.  My 
mother  had  a  great  admiration  for  the  latter,  a  most 
capable  and  clever  woman,  she  used  to  say,  besides 
a  very  kind  one. 

She  was  also  very  fond  of  the  late  Mr.  Oliver  Borth- 
wick.   Writing  to  a  friend  she  said  : 

"  I  have  had  such  mental  pains  lately.  That  poor 
O.  Borthwick.  I  saw  him  just  before  the  end  and  then 
he  wired  me  he  was  to  have  an  operation  and  bade 
me  with  love  adieu,  and  then  he  asked  his  sister  to 
give  me  with  his  love  a  large  Japanese  tray  that  he 
always  used.    All  this  has  touched  me  so  much." 

Lord  Glenesk's  invitations  to  come  and  stay  with 
him  on  the  Riviera  were  most  gracefully  turned. 
Writing  from  his  villa,  the  Chateau  St.  Michel,  he  said  : 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Spring  advancing  every  hour,  with  blue  and 
white  streamers  and  bursting  buds,  heavenly  scents 
and  patches  of  the  coming  colours. 

Lizards,  birds,  insects,  darting,  singing,  flying,  and 
splendid  concerts  with  the  hum  of  bees  and  the  bark 
of  frogs. 

All  this  with  devoted  friends  waiting  for  you. 

Ever  yours, 

Glenesk. 

My  mother  was  one  of  the  first,  if  not  the  first,  of 
the  Conservatives  to  welcome  Mr.  Chamberlain  as  a 
guest  in  her  house. 


116  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  very  early  in  the  eighties 
she  said  : 

Bretby  Park, 

Burton-on-Trent. 
29th. 

My  dear  Blanche, 

I  was  so  glad  to  receive  your  dear  letter  and 
to  think  there  was  just  a  chance  of  seeing  you. 

Oh  what  horrors  have  happened  and  are  still 
happening  since  we  left,  yet  you  believe  in  the  head 
centre  of  them  all — the  Grand  Old  Man. 

Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  where  will  it  all  end  ?  But  it  is 
useless  continuing  a  topic  on  which  we  are  so  divided, 
but  it  is  all  shocking  to  think  of.  I  must  own  I  have 
made  Mr.  Chamberlain's  acquaintance  and  like  him 
very  much,  as  he  allows  me  to  tell  him  wholesome 
truths ;  but  I  don't  think  he  is  up  to  working  the 
revolution  he  has  taken  in  hand. 

I  have  been  here  for  the  last  few  days  with  the 
Tecks,  Ldy.  Bradford,  Mr.  Gorst,  Ldy.  H.  Lennox,  and 
a  few  other  right-minded  people. 

The  weather  is  delicious  and  we  are  all  very  pleasant 
together — tho'  Bretby  with  its  many  painful  memories 
makes  me  always  very  sad. 

It  is  possible  that  her  influence,  together  with  that 
of  others,  with  whom  he  was  brought  into  contact, 
in  some  slight  degree  paved  the  way  for  the  sub- 
sequent modification  of  Mr.  Chamberlain's  political 
views.  Before  one  of  his  first  lunches  at  Charles 
Street  he  wrote  the  following  amusing  note  : 

72  Prince's  Gate,  S.W. 

May  2,  1882. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

It  is  very  brave  of  you  to  run  the  risk  of  invit- 
ing me  to  your  house,  and  I  shall  have  great  pleasure 
in  concealing  my  hoofs  and  tail,  so  as  not  to  alarm 
your  other  guests,  and  in  dining  with  you  on  the  24th 


MR.  JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN  117 

— which,  by  the  way,  is  the  Queen's  birthday.  At 
present,  however,  I  have  no  official  engagement  and 
I  hope  to  be  free  to  accept  your  kind  invitation. 

Yours  very  truly, 

(Sgd.)  J.  Chamberlain. 

Old  Lady  Chesterfield  did  not  at  all  approve  of  all 
this.     In  June,  1884,  she  wrote  : 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  have  had  Sir  Stafford  to 
Luncheon,  you  had  better  have  young  Curzon,1  whom 
you  met  here,  instead  of  all  those  Radicals,  more 
particularly  Chamberlain,  who  is  a  blackguard  and 
would  like  to  be  Prime  Minister  in  order  to  turn  every- 
thing topsy-turvy." 

Not  a  few  indeed  of  the  older  school  of  Conservatives 
regarded  Joseph  Chamberlain  as  about  as  bad  as 
Henry  George,  whose  book  Progress  and  Poverty  a 
year  or  two  before  had  attracted  a  good  deal  of  atten- 
tion, owing  to  the  wild  notions  as  to  land  with  which 
it  had  inspired  certain  social  reformers. 

The  author,  as  a  clever  friend  of  my  mother,  wrote 
to  her,  thought  but  one  thing  was  wanting  to  make 
this  world  a  paradise,  which  was  to  confiscate  the 
property  of  the  landowners  of  the  world  !  His  idea 
apparently  was  that  for  every  ruined  landlord  there 
would  be  twenty  reclaimed  ladies  of  pleasure  and  an 
equal  number  of  reclaimed  drunkards.  All  the  vice 
and  misery  of  the  world,  in  his  opinion,  were  due  to 
landowning.  On  this  principle  if  the  Duke  of  Bedford 
could  be  made  a  beggar  all  Covent  Garden  would  be 
at  once  filled  with  a  legion  of  angels  ! 

Mr.  Chamberlain  wrote  very  frequently  to  my 
mother,  generally  keeping  up  a  flow  of  comment  upon 
current  politics.  Writing  when  the  Franchise  Bill 
was  being  considered,  he  said  : 

"  Do  not  be  deceived  by  the  assurances  of  your 

1  Now  Lord  Cur/on  of  Kedleston. 


118  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

friends  that  the  people  are  apathetic.  They  will  not 
show  any  excitement  till  there  is  reason  for  it,  but 
there  is  a  quiet  determination  which  is  only  silent 
because  at  present  we  are  moving  steadily  to  the 
desired  end. 

"  But  if  Lord  Salisbury  throws  out  the  Franchise 
Bill  we  shall  have  a  hot  time,  and  there  will  be  '  wigs 
on  the  grass  ' — or  is  it  '  Whigs  '  ? 

"  I  think  R.  Churchill's  speeches  were  a  mistake,  they 
are  too  much  in  the  air  for  any  party — even  the 
Fourth." 

There  was  something  prophetic  about  the  following  ; 
it  is  now  extremely  likely  that  the  statue  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain mentioned  will  actually  be  erected  by  the 
Tories  : 

40  Prince's  Gardens,  S.W. 

January  21,  1885. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  have  had  a  stroke,  but  am  getting  round 
again.  I  go  to  Birmingham  on  Friday  to  rest  and  to 
prepare  a  new  onslaught  on  Property  for  the  Members' 
Meeting  at  the-  end  of  the  month. 

You  are  mistaken  in  thinking  that  my  last  speeches, 
which  have  not  been  printed  except  in  the  newspapers, 
are  all  theory,  for  there  are  some  very  practical  sugges- 
tions for  taxing  both  land  and  wealth. 

But  they  are  not  dangerous  and  they  or  something 
like  them  are  the  only  "  Paratonnerre  "  against  George1 
and  still  more  drastic  reformers. 

If  the  Tories  knew  their  best  friends  they  would 
erect  a  statue  to  me.  As  it  is  they  slander  one  with 
a  clumsy  malice  which  altogether  defeats  its  own 
purpose. 

Believe  me, 

Yours  sincerely, 

(Sgd.)  J.  Chamberlain. 

1  Henry  George,  author  of  Progress  and  Poverty. 


LETTERS  119 

Later  on  as  Mr.  Chamberlain  began  to  modify  his 
views  my  mother  wrote  chaffingly  taxing  him  with 
manifesting  leanings  towards  the  Tories ;   he  replied  : 

"  I  fear  that  you  have  gone  over  to  the  enemy, 
for  you  praise  R.  Churchill  for  his  democratic  leanings 
and  you  accuse  me  of  surrendering  to  aristocratic 
influence.  I  hope  to  convince  you  that  this  damaging 
aspersion  on  my  character  is  quite  unfounded." 

Mr.  Chamberlain  lived  to  become  the  main  hope 
of  the  Unionist  party  and  to  sever  all  connection  with 
Gladstonianism.     In  the  nineties  he  wrote  : 

40  Prince's  Gardens,  S.W. 

August  19,  1892. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  have  been  working  continuously  for  the  last 
two  months  and  although  I  am  very  well  I  feel  the 
strain  a  little. 

We  start  to-morrow  for  a  week  in  the  Peak  country 
which  is  all  I  can  spare  just  now.  Later  in  the  year 
we  hope  to  go  to  Italy,  and  I  trust  that  Etna  will 
reserve  its  best  effects  till  then. 

We  sympathize  with  you  in  your  fears  for  the  future, 
although  I  feel  sure  that  when  you  go  to  the  guillotine 
(or  will  it  be  the  Dynamo  in  the  present  enlightened 
age  ?)  your  conduct  will  be  a  credit  to  the  British 
aristocracy. 

Before  that  time  comes  I  mean  to  square  matters 
with  Archbishop  Walsh  or  Mr.  Keir  Hardie,  which- 
ever happens  to  be  Boss  at  the  time. 

Meanwhile  we  are  much  amused  at  the  situation 
of  the  new  Ministry.  The  comments  of  the  loyal 
Gladstonians  on  their  leaders  are  anything  but  com- 
plimentary. "  The  old  gang  and  their  spawn,"  says 
one.     "  Who  is  Acland  ?  "  says  another. 

The  thing  itself  is  neither  rich  nor  rare, 
One  wonders  how  the  devil  it  got  there. 


120  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Everyone  is  surprised  at  Asquith's  sudden  elevation, 
especially  his  brother  lawyers,  all  of  whom  think  that 
they  would  have  tilled  the  post  better. 

Labouchere  is  furious,  and  puts  it  about  that  his 
exclusion  is  due  to  his  patriotic  conduct  in  regard  to 
Royal  Grants.    But  he  may  be  mistaken. 

•  ••••• 

Now  I  suppose  there  will  be  quiet  for  a  time,  and 
except  for  the  Newcastle  election  (of  which  I  hear 
good  accounts)  we  shall  have  no  political  excitement 
till  January. 

What  do  you  think  of  the  Duke's  marriage  ?    After 

the  long  silence  it  has  come  as  a  surprise.    One  result 

is  that  the  present  Duchess  will  get  the  pearls,  and  she 

has  lost  her  husband.    Which  is  the  greater  blessing  ? 

My  wife  sends  her  kindest  remembrances, 

And  I  am  always, 

Your  most  respectful  admirer, 

J.  Chamberlain. 

This  close  friendship  with  Mr.  Chamberlain 
lasted  till  the  end  of  her  life.  It  was  further 
strengthened  by  his  marriage  to  Miss  Endicott,  who 
my  mother  used  to  say  was  one  of  the  most  charming 
women  she  had  ever  known  in  her  life.  During  the 
great  statesman's  last  illness  she  went  from  time  to 
time  to  see  him,  but  such  visits  were  rather  depressing, 
reminding  his  old  friends  of  the  days  when  they 
had  seen  him  in  the  full  flush  of  health  and  strength. 
My  mother  classed  the  stricken  leader  among  the  great 
men  she  had  known  during  her  long  life,  and  never  failed 
to  lament  that  illness  had  struck  down  the  one  man 
capable  of  stemming  the  rising  tide  of  revolutionary 
extravagance. 

For  Mr.  Austen  Chamberlain  my  mother  had  also 
a  great  regard. 

It  was  I  think  in  the  early  eighties  that  she  first 
met  Sir  Garnet  and  Lady  Wolseley  both  of  whom 


LETTERS  121 

became  her  great  friends.  Lady  Wolseley,  an  accom- 
plished and  clever  woman,  had  many  tastes  in  common 
with  her,  and  Sir  Garnet's  alert  and  highly  cultivated 
mind  at  once  commanded  her  admiration.  For  years 
she  carried  on  a  correspondence  with  both,  and  Lord 
Wolseley,  as  he  afterwards  became,  knowing  her  liking 
for  trifles,  often  gave  her  some  curious  relics — from 
Egypt,  for  instance,  he  sent  dervish  rings  and  the 
like. 

He  too  was  frequently  at  the  Sunday  luncheons, 
though  it  was  not  always  possible  for  him  to  get  away. 
Invited  to  meet  Lord  Randolph,  he  wrote : 

War  Office. 

Friday. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  wish  I  could  always  do  as  I  wished  :  if  I 
could  I  should  ring  very  frequently  at  your  bell.  I 
know  you  won't  believe  me,  however,  for  you  think 
all  men  can  always  do  as  they  wish.  I  never  get 
away  from  this  until  after  six  or  half-past  six  o'clock 
and  I  am  then  so  tired  and  pumped  out  that  I  feel 
like  a  yard  of  pump-water  or  a  jelly  fish.  I  wish  I 
could  lunch  with  you  next  Sunday,  but  that  too  is 
impossible  this  week.  I  should  very  much  have  liked 
meeting  the  leader  of  the  fourth  party,  but  whether 
he  were  to  be  there  or  not,  it  would  be  a  real  pleasure 
to  me  to  take  my  midday  meal  with  you. 
Hoping  to  see  you  again  very  soon, 

Believe  me  to  be, 

Sincerely  yours, 

Wolseley. 

Later  on,  however,  he  often  met  the  Fourth  Party, 
or  rather  three-fourths  of  it,  at  Charles  Street. 

Though  socially  a  most  popular  figure,  Lord 
Wolseley  of  course  had  many  enemies  amongst  the 
older  school  of  military  men,  his  rise  naturally  pro- 
ducing jealousy  amongst  less  clever  and  less  fortunate 


122  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

contemporaries,  who  accused  him  of  trying  to  secure 
all  the  plums  for  himself. 

Such  attacks,  however,  merely  made  him  smile.  He 
had  set  himself  the  task  of  putting  the  army  in  a  sound 
state  and  intended  to  carry  it  out  in  the  face  of  all 
opposition. 

The  school  of  officer  typified  by  a  certain  fashion- 
able general,  who  during  the  Zulu  War  kept  sending 
home  agonized  complaints  from  the  Tugela  concerning 
the  shortage  of  certain  condiments  which  he  deemed 
necessities  of  life,  was  highly  antipathetic  to  a  mind 
which  early  realized  the  pressing  necessity  of  efficiency 
in  modern  warfare. 

Besides  despising  luxury  in  the  field  Lord  Wolseley 
entertained  the  greatest  contempt  for  the  old  school 
of  military  martinet  (some  years  before  denounced 
by  Mr.  Bernal  Osborne,  as  the  main  support  of  what 
he  called  the  "  Great  Aldershot  job  " — an  indifferent 
preparatory  school  for  indifferent  generals)  and  did 
not  scruple  to  say  so. 

His  attitude  towards  his  military  opponents  closely 
resembled  that  adopted  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who 
when  he  was  hooted  by  the  Radical  ruffians  of  Jed- 
burgh, said  : 

"  I  care  for  you  no  more  than  for  the  hissing  of 
geese." 

Years  before  when  Lord  Wolseley  was  a  young 
unknown  subaltern  the  War  Office  had  been  attacked 
as  entirely  answerable  for  the  first  failures  of  the 
Crimean  campaign.  "  I  maintain,"  at  that  time  said 
a  clever  but  hostile  critic,  speaking  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  "  that  you  must  entirely  reconstruct  your 
whole  military  system.  The  time  has  arrived  when 
you  cannot  expect  an  army,  besides  winning  battles 
in  the  field,  to  go  through  the  vicissitudes  of  a  cam- 
paign under  the  present  state  of  things.  You  must 
lay  an  unsparing  hand  on  that  building  adjacent  to 
these  premises.  You  must  see,  in  fact,  whether  you 
can  find  a  modern  Hercules  to  turn  the  Serpentine 


LETTERS  123 

through  the  Horse  Guards  and  all  the  ramifications 
of  the  War  Office." 

The  hidebound  system  of  precedents  which  then 
prevailed  in  the  department  in  question  simply 
maddened  Lord  Wolseley's  clever  brain  and  he  worked 
like  a  slave  to  replace  it  by  something  more  efficient. 

Unlike  the  older  school  of  generals  he  attached  no 
undue  importance  to  the  ceremonial  part  of  military 
life.  In  this  of  course  he  was  widely  different  from  his 
Commander-in-Chief,  the  late  Duke  of  Cambridge. 

H.R.H.  delights  in  oratory.  "  I  hate  it,"  wrote 
he — "  I  squander  all  my  time  inspecting  cadets, 
watching  them  drill,  etc.  etc." 

As  was  to  be  expected  from  the  characters  of  the 
two  men  and  from  the  friction  which  must  naturally 
result  when  the  old  school  is  brought  into  constant 
contact  with  the  new,  the  Duke  did  not  always  see 
eye  to  eye  with  "  our  only  General,"  as  Lord  Wolseley 
came  to  be  called.  In  1885,  before  setting  out  for 
Egypt,  the  latter  wrote : 

In  the  Train,  en  route  for  Osborne. 

Saturday. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  tell  you  where  I  write  this  lest  you  should 
think  the  unsteadiness  of  my  writing  was  the  result 
either  of  "  drink  "  or  funk  of  the  great  Mahdi.  I 
was  never  more  sober  and  never  less  under  the  in- 
fluence of  any  nerve  affection.  I  have  had  a  "  real 
bad  time  of  it,"  as  Mr.  Something  Lowell  would  say, 
since  Wednesday  morning  when  my  appointment 
became  known.  H.R.H.  rushed  back  from  Scotland 
in  a  devil  of  a  rage,  and  so  hot  has  been  his  head  and 
his  anger  that  I  am  sure  he  will  have  a  bad  attack 
of  the  gout.  If  he  only  would  have  stayed  away  until 
I  had  started,  my  difficulties  would  have  been  very 
much;reduced,  but  he  dreads  the  world  thinking  that 
the  Army  can  get  on  in  his  absence,  whereas  if  you 
could  only  entrap  him  into  your  castle  and  keep  him 


124  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

locked  up  for  say  a  year  or  more  you  would  be  doing 
the  public  service  the  greatest  benefit.  I  leave  town 
for  Cairo  by  the  evening  train  to-morrow,  going  round 
by  Vienna  and  Trieste  to  avoid  quarantine,  and  hope 
to  reach  our  destination  on  Monday  week.  I  shall 
expect  you  to  write  me  long  letters  telling  me  how 
the  world  gets  on  when  deprived  of  my  presence, 
and  in  return  I  shall  try  to  keep  you  "  posted  '  in 
the  latest  slang  of  Cairo  donkey  boys,  that  gamin 
par  excellence  who  has  no  counterpart  elsewhere  and 
who  has  a  future  before  him  that  no  other  street 
arab  can  aspire  to.  He  may  through  the  affection 
of  some  Pasha  or  the  keenness  of  his  wit,  unaided 
by  such  love,  live  to  die  a  Prime  Minister.  Good- 
bye. 

I  shall  often  wish  myself  back  in  45  Charles  Street. 

Your  affectionate  friend 

(Sgd.)    WOLSELEY. 

The  end  of  this  expedition  to  Egypt  was  anything 
but  satisfactory  to  the  writer  who  poured  out  his 
irritation  as  follows  : 

On  Board  Ship  in  the  Red  Sea. 

May  19,  1885. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  have  been  of  late  a  very  bad  correspondent 
indeed,  always  intending  to  write,  and  as  often  post- 
poning doing  so — many  reasons  explain  this  satis- 
factorily to  my  own  mind,  which  it  would  be  dull  and 
a  waste  of  time  and  of  War  Office  paper  to  attempt 
to  put  in  writing.  I  shall  only  mention  one  ;  I  have 
been  so  unsettled  of  late  in  mind  and  body  that  I 
hated  writing  or  formulating  any  wishes  in  my  mind 
much  less  any  plans  for  the  future.  I  am  so  disgusted 
with  the  policy  adopted  by  the  Government  in  this 
Soudan  business,  that  I  hate  to  think  of  the  future. 
I  have  been  made  much  a  fool  of  by  Gladstone  and 
Company  that  I  am  ashamed  to  look  even  the  donkey 


LETTERS  125 

boys  of  Cairo  in  the  face.  I  made  promises  to  the 
Soudan  people  on  the  faith  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  an- 
nouncement in  Parliament  that  have  "  blackened  my 
face  '  in  this  land  of  Egypt  and  that  make  me  long 
to  sneak  out  of  it.  I  hate  going  back  to  Cairo  to  meet 
the  Khedive  and  his  ministers,  and  I  cannot  say  that 
I  look  forward  either  with  any  pleasure  to  meeting 
the  members  of  H.M.  Government  if  I  return  home. 
However,  I  shall  meet  you  with  great  pleasure  if  I 
return  home.  I  have  now  really  finished  all  I  had 
to  do  in  consequence  of  the  newly  adopted  policy  in 
the  Soudan,  and  only  wonder  that  I  have  not  been 
already  ordered  to  England. 

I  left  Suakim  this  morning  and  left  it  with  delight. 
If  my  boots  had  had  any  dust  on  them,  I  should  have 
shaken  it  off  as  the  good  ship  Queen  steered  out  of 
that  foul  harbour  :  oh  such  smells  ! !  We  went  through 
what  I  may  call  the  gamut  of  stenches  as  we  passed 
through  the  harbour,  one  worse  than  the  other.  I 
sleep  on  deck  every  night,  and  awoke  this  morning 
about  4  a.m.,  after  which  no  more  sleep  for  me,  and 
every  moment  I  thought  I  must  have  been  "  prac- 
tically '  sick  from  the  foulness  of  the  smells  with 
which  the  air  was  loaded.  Now  the  air  is  delightful, 
very  warm  of  course,  but  a  pleasant  breeze  that  seems 
to  bring  new  life  with  it,  whilst  it  scarcely  ripples  the 
deep  blue  sea  in  which  shoals  of  porpoises  seem  as  if 
intent  on  pursuing  the  flying  fish  that  skim  past  us 
in  packs.  My  wife,  as  I  daresay  you  know,  paid  me  a 
visit  in  Cairo  ;  but,  poor  little  woman,  she  was  far 
from  well  most  of  the  time  she  stayed  there.  She  is 
now  in  Florence  or  Lake  Como,  I  am  not  quite  certain 
which.  I  suppose  I  shall  hear  in  a  few  days  when  I 
am  to  go  home. 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Wolseley. 

When  Commander-in-Chief  in  Ireland  Lord  Wolseley 
sent  my  mother  many  chatty  letters. 


126  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  Royal  Hospital, 
Dublin. 

December  29,  1892. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

You  very  seldom  write  to  me  and  when  you  do 
accuse  my  negligence  in  writing  to  you.  Why,  I  am 
as  true  to  you  as  the  needle  to  the  pole,  and  answer 
your  letters  with  the  precision  of  the  thunderclap  after 
the  lightning.  Here  we  are  in  the  depth  of  a  glacial 
period,  one's  very  windows  frozen  over.  No  hunting, 
so  Frances  has  to  amuse  herself  with  skating.  Our 
dynamite  explosion  has  been  a  new  blow  to  Mr.  Morley, 
who  is  certainly  the  most  unlucky  of  mortals.  He  is 
in  private  life  so  extremely  charming  that  one  never 
ceases  to  regret  his  conversion  into  an  indifferent 
politician,  and  an  infernally  bad  ruler  of  the  clever 
rascals  he  has  to  deal  with  in  Ireland,  some  in  the 
guise  of  priests  and  bishops,  and  the  mob  in  the  con- 
ventional garb  of  the  carrier-boy.  Poor  disconsolate 
Houghton  is  in  England  for  a  fortnight,  glad  to  escape 
from  the  enforced  isolation  he  encounters  in  the 
Viceregal  Lodge.  The  curtain  has  fallen  upon  the 
farce  written  by  Morley  and  played  by  Judge  Mathew, 
in  No.  28  Merrion  Square  here. 

My  wife  is  busy  with  a  Christmas — a  forest — tree  in 
our  big  hall,  I  should  say  the  biggest  of  the  kind  ever 
used  before.  At  it,  about  200  widows  and  300  of  their 
children — by  soldiers  of  course — are  to  be  fed,  amused, 
given  woollen  things  to  warm  their  bodies  and  tea 
to  warm  their  stomachs  this  afternoon,  and  I  am 
wellnigh  "  broke  '  with  festivities  here,  not  only  to 
those  who  wear  silk  stockings,  but  to  those  who  wear 
none.  I  am  busy  getting  my  book  through  the  press. 
The  illustrations  will  be  worth  your  money.  Don't 
forget  to  order  it  at  the  nearest  bookshop.  My  best 
love  to  Miss  Meresia  and  the  same  to  you  with  all  my 
best  wishes  for  the  coming  year. 

Your  firm  friend, 

Wolseley. 


LETTERS  127 

Poor  disconsolate  Houghton  was,  of  course,  the 
present  Lord  Crewe,  for  whom  the  writer  had  a  real 
admiration  and  regard  which  made  him  all  the  more 
sorry  to  see  him  left  severely  alone  by  the  Dublin 
Loyalists  as  they  liked  to  call  themselves. 

"  I  am  afraid "  (said  Lord  Wolseley  in  another 
letter)  "  poor  Houghton  has  a  dull  time  of  it,  for  he 
is  regularly  boycotted  by  all  the  noble  Lords  and 
Ladies  and  the  Squires  will  not  go  near  him.  The 
other  day,  the  provost,  who  nominates  his  Chaplains, 
sent  him  the  names  of  those  he  had  selected.  The 
dear  old  gentleman  had  not  evidently  consulted  those 
upon  whom  he  had  fixed,  and  the  result  was  that  one 
of  those  so  selected  wrote  officially  to  say  he  politely 
but  positively  declined  to  act  in  such  a  capacity.  We 
all  like  Houghton  very  much  and  wonder  why  on 
earth  he  ever  came  here." 

Lord  Wolseley's  descriptions  of  his  military  life  were 
always  vivacious  and  interesting  : — 

In  camp,  near  Stradbally,  Queen's  County,  Ireland, 
he  wrote  : 

August  5,  1894. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  have  been  here  in  camp  for  most  of  the  past 
week,  and  notwithstanding  some  heavy  rain  have 
enjoyed  myself  greatly.  We  begin  our  manoeuvres 
about  half-past  nine  in  the  morning  and  generally 
get  back  to  our  tents  in  time  for  luncheon  at  two  or 
three  o'clock  p.m.  All  day  I  live  in  the  open  air,  and 
though  our  food  leaves  us  much  to  desire,  the  appetite 
is  always  good.  I  sometimes  wish  I  were  a  barbarian 
that  could  despise  all  the  trouble  which  love  of  cleanli- 
ness entails,  and  feel  as  happy  in  sleeping  under  a  wet 
bush  as  in  a  room  with  a  well-appointed  bed  and  sur- 
rounded with  the  choicest  of  Chippendale  furniture. 
How  pleasant  in  hot  weather  to  go  about  without 
clothing  and  to  feel  that  no  cynical  observer  was 
making  unkind  remarks  upon  your  want  of  muscle 
or  over-inflated  paunch,  etc.  etc.      It  is  curious  how 


128  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

soon  one  takes  to  the  savage  customs  of  our  ancestors 
when  away  from  French  cookery,  Turkish  baths,  and 
the  other  abominations  which  make  up  the  unnatural 
life  of  what  we  choose  to  call  civilized  man.  Before 
leaving  Dublin  I  received  a  copy  of  your  beautiful 
book,  for  which  I  thank  you  with  all  the  gratitude  I 
am  capable  of :  perhaps  you  think  I  am  not  capable 
of  much,  but  if  you  do  so,  you  are  very  much  mistaken. 
I  feel  for  my  friends  and  hate  my  enemies  far  more 
than  I  usually  say,  and  it  is  to  me  exceedingly  pleasant 
to  think  that  those  I  care  for  sometimes  think  of  me 
when  absent.  When  I  leave  this  I  start  for  Genoa, 
going  direct  from  Dublin  to  that  city  of  tall  houses 
and  gloomy  palaces.  There  I  embark  in  Sir  J.  Pender's 
large  ship,  the  Electra,  for  the  Crimea.  I  do  not  know 
when  I  shall  be  back,  but  I  hope  to  find  you  in  London 
when  I  do  return.  Frances  is  on  board  Sir  J.  Burn's 
yacht  at  Cowes,  where  she  remains  for  the  gay  week. 
The  yacht  called  in  for  her  at  Kingstown  and  she  went 
round  in  her  to  Cowes.  She  writes  to  say  that  next 
to  hunting  she  thinks  yachting  the  best  of  all  delightful 
pleasures.  We  have  rain  here  every  day,  but  a  good 
deal  of  sun  also  between  the  heavy  showers.  This  is 
a  most  civilized  part  of  Ireland.  Roads  very  good, 
hedges  well  cut  and  trimmed,  and  all  the  farmhouses 
and  cottages  well  kept  and  actually  clean,  at  least 
outside.  It  is  a  lovely  country,  as  one  sees  it  from 
the  hills  we  manoeuvre  over,  and  reminds  me  much 
of  England.  I  was  only  one  night  in  London  for 
Pender's  Banquet,  reaching  just  in  time  for  dinner 
and  leaving  early  next  day  for  Staffordshire,  where 
Frances  and  I  were  staying  at  the  time. 

Very  sincerely, 

Yours  always, 

Wolseley. 


My  mother  had  a  great  admiration  for  Lord  Morley 
(then  Mr.  John  Morley,  chafhngly  known  as  honest 


LETTERS  129 

John)  and  this  Lord  Wolseley  fully  shared.    He  wrote 
in  January,  1895  : 

"  I  am  afraid  that  beyond  your  interest  in  that 
most  fascinating  of  men — fascinating  to  both  sexes — 
Mr.  John  Morley,  you  take  little  heed  of  what  we  do 
in  this  rainy  and  squally  island.  That  firm  ruler  of 
a  turbulent  race  left  here  yesterday  for  London,  I 
hope  your  cowslip — no  primrose  ladies  don't  mean 
to  turn  him  out  of  office  as  long  as  I  remain  in  Ireland. 
He  is  the  only  feature  about  this  Irish  Command  at 
present,  and  as  I  am  not  a  politician  I  trust  he  may 
last  out  my  day  here.  I  very  often  hear  of  you, 
but  I  think  of  you  still  more.  I  have  few  good  friends 
in  the  world  who  would — I  think — help  me  were  I 
in  trouble,  and  have  always  counted  you  as  one  of 
those  few,  so  do  not  please  cast  me  off  now  in  my 
old  age.  The  book1  you  sent  me  was  charming,  well 
written  and  very  beautifully  illustrated.  Why  do  you 
not  do  more  in  that  line  ?  You  might  write  a  delightful 
book  on  all  your  old  ironwork  and  illustrate  it  with 
your  own  drawings.  It  would  make  a  delightful  work. 
Although  I  did  not  know  your  brother,  I  mourned  his 
loss  for  your  sake.  I  knew  you  would  feel  it  much. 
As  the  links  drop  off  from  the  chain  which  used  to 
join  us  to  others  it  is  not  easy  to  smile,  much  less  to 
laugh — and  what  is  the  world  without  mirth  and 
laughter  !  Why  it  is  the  one  great  characteristic — 
perhaps  the  only  one  we  possess — which  entitles  us  to 
feel  superior  to  dogs,  and  the  lions  in  the  Zoo-gardens." 

In  another  letter  he  said  : 

"  My  wife  has  fallen  in  love  with  John  Morley — 
what  a  delightful  companion  he  is  !  What  fiend  was 
it  that  tempted  him  to  give  up  literature  and  take  to 
loathsome  party  politics  ?  We  are  to  have  Lord 
Rosebery  here  for  a  few  days  this  week  which  will 
brighten  us  up  a  little.    As  long  as  he  remains  in  the 

1  Mannington  and  the  Walpoles. 


130  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Ministry  he  will  be  a  sort  of  guarantee  that  the  old 
Devil  will  not  be  allowed  to  destroy  our  Empire.  I 
think  the  evidence  given  before  the  Meath  Election 
trial  will  damage  Home  Rule  prospects  in  the  mind 
of  every  man  in  England  who  is  open  to  reason  as  to 
how  the  priests  would  rule  the  country  if  ever  England 
were  so  mad  as  to  give  these  rebels  the  power  to  rule 
in  Ireland.  I  wish  I  could  be  in  London  this  Session, 
for  although  I  hate  London,  I  should  like  to  watch 
public  feeling  with  my  finger  on  its  pulse  as  it  beat 
daily  during  the  debate  on  the  address  and  on  the 
proposal  to  hand  over  this  unhappy  country  to  a 
government  of  Irish  priests  and  of  others  equally 
hostile  to  England  and  to  England's  glory  and 
interests." 

Though,  of  course,  he  never  made  any  public  pro- 
fession of  his  political  faith,  it  will  be  gathered  that 
at  the  latter  part  of  his  career  Lord  Wolseley,  though 
he  himself  had  been  a  Radical  of  the  Radicals  as  far 
as  the  army  was  concerned,  had  long  lost  all  sympathy 
with  official  Liberalism.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had 
the  greatest  admiration  for  Lord  Salisbury. 

In  a  note  to  my  mother  he  wrote  : 

"  I  thought  you  might  have  been  in  the  House  of 
Lords  last  night  to  hear  Lord  Salisbury  speak.  He 
is  the  only  speaker  I  care  now  to  listen  to.  I  like 
him  and  I  believe  in  him  though  the  press  has  com- 
bined to  '  crab  '  him. 

"  However  he  will  outlive  all  printed  venom." 

The  end  of  Lord  Wolseley's  military  career  coin- 
cided exactly  with  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
and  he  disappeared  from  public  life  without  perhaps 
getting  full  credit  for  all  he  had  done — as  a  matter 
of  fact,  although  his  policy  was  sometimes  questioned 
he  was  generally  right. 

"  I  have  read,"  wrote  a  distinguished  soldier  to  my 
mother  from   India  in  April,   1901,   "all  about  the 


I  IELD-MARSHAL   VISCOUNT   WOLSELEY,    K..F.,  P.C.,  G.C.B.,  O.M.,  G.C.M.G, 


LETTERS  131 

Lansdowne-Wolseley  controversy  with  the  greatest 
interest.  I  think  Ld.  W.  spoke  each  time  with  dignity 
and  effect.  His  views  may  not  all  have  been  sound, 
but  he  only  did  his  duty  in  putting  them  forward. 
No  speaker  or  paper  has  given  Ld.  W.  the  credit  which 
is  his  alone  of  all  the  reforms  in  the  army  for  the  last 
20  years,  especially  for  the  increased  education  and 
professional  spirit  amongst  officers,  and  they  all  forget 
that  we  never  can  have  an  army  fit  for  real  work 
without  conscription  as  Moltke  said." 

At  the  end  of  his  career  Lord  Wolseley  became 
rather  wearied  with  military  matters. 

"It  is  not  physical  labour  that  wears  me  out," 
wrote  he.  "I  delight  in  being  bodily  tired,  but  I  am 
worn  out  by  the  opposition  of  a  lot  of  d — d  fools  who 
meddle  in  matters  without  the  least  knowledge  of  war, 
because  they  have  the  power  to  do  so.  Supposing  you 
sent  for  an  expert — say  Sir  James  Paget — and  he 
ordered  you  certain  treatment,  how  utterly  ridiculous 
it  would  be  to  argue  with  him  about  it  and  refuse  to 
comply  with  his  injunctions.  Such  is  my  position  as 
regards  war.  I  have  made  it  the  study  of  my  life 
and  have  had  a  great  deal  more  experience  of  it  than 
any  other  Englishman,  yet  day  by  day,  when  dealing 
with  matters  that  refer  exclusively  to  war,  I  am 
badgered  and  hampered  by  a  pack  of  Secretaries  of 
State,  Surveyor  Generals,  etc.  etc.  etc.,  who  thwart 
and  oppose  me  until  I  am  nearly  mad." 

In  October,  1902,  he  wrote  : 

"  Are  you  to  be  a  looker-on  at  the  King's  proces- 
sion ?  I  am  sick  of  all  such  vanities,  and  have  no  wish 
ever  to  put  on  a  red  coat  again — I  only  want  to  be 
let  alone.  At  present  I  am  working  at  my  memoirs 
which  amuse  me  intensely.  I  wonder  if  they  will 
either  interest  or  amuse  anyone  else  in  the  world  ! 
It  is  not  easy  to  settle  in  one's  mind  how  much  one 
may  say  about  others  who  have  been  colleagues  or 
acquaintances — my  enemies,  though  numerous,  don't 


132  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

interest  me  and  they  were  all  a  poor  lot  unworthy  even 
of  my  hoop-iron  steel." 

In  November,  1901,  he  wrote  from  Glynde  : 

"  Here  I  lead  the  most  tranquil  of  lives.  As  I  write 
this  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  my  window  is 
full  open,  and  as  I  look  through  it  I  see  the  Downs, 
so  green  and  with  so  many  misty  shadows  upon  them, 
with  our  little  garden  and  trees  as  a  foreground,  every- 
thing still,  no  noise  of  any  sort,  no  dust,  no  dirt  and  a 
glorious  sun  just  up  behind  the  Downs  over  East- 
bourne. I  wonder  why  it  is  men  and  women  live  in 
dirty  cities,  amidst  noise,  the  screaming  of  cats,  motor- 
cars and  all  the  abominations  in  which  London  specially 
abounds." 

My  mother  and  Lord  Wolseley  had  many  mutual 
friends.  Among  the  greatest  of  these  was  the  late 
Lord  Haliburton,  then  Sir  Arthur,  and  his  wife,  whom 
my  mother  always  described  as  one  of  the  kindest 
women  she  had  ever  known. 

Lord  Wolseley,  besides  being  attracted  by  the  social 
gifts  of  this  couple,  had  a  very  high  opinion  of  Sir 
Arthur  as  an  administrator.  Writing  to  my  mother 
he  said  : 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  like  the  Haliburtons.  He  is 
the  best  man  we  have  had  about  the  army  for  a  long 
time.  He  is  always  so  fair,  and  anxious  to  help  us 
soldiers,  that  besides  being  a  charming  man  personally, 
he  is  invaluable  as  a  public  servant.  I  wish  he  could 
be  Secretary  of  State  for  War  for  a  few  years.  His 
report  on  Lord  Wantage's  Committee  was  extremely 
able,  and  has  put  the  Committee's  report  entirely  into 
the  shade." 

Another  great  friend  whose  loss  she  never  ceased 
to  deplore  was  the  late  Sir  Edward  Bradford,  one  of 
the  best  Chief  Commissioners  of  Police  London  has 
ever  known. 


SIR  HENRY  BRACKENBURY  133 

It  was  perhaps  inevitable  that  with  the  progress 
of  time  Lord  Wolseley,  in  his  last  years  in  somewhat 
failing  health,  should  become  somewhat  forgotten. 
His  great  services  in  having  practically  founded  the 
modern  English  army  which  fought  so  gallantly  in 
France  were  never  probably  appreciated  at  their  full 
worth.  This  pained  some  of  his  old  colleagues,  among 
them  the  late  General  Brackenbury,  who  wrote  : 

23  Hanover  Square,  W. 

January  1,  1901. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Very  many  thanks  for  your  kind  letter.  First, 
let  me  wish  you,  with  all  my  heart,  every  happiness 
for  the  New  Year. 

The  day  after  to-morrow  Lord  Roberts  arrives.  We 
shall  have  an  awful  day.  Fancy  riding  through  London 
at  a  foot's  pace  in  a  pouring  rain,  in  the  cold  of  January, 
then  a  dreary  luncheon  at  Buckingham  Palace,  and  a 
still  more  dreary  dinner  at  Mr.  Brodrick's — to  meet 
Bobs  and  the  Royalties.    Pity  me,  please. 

Mr.  Brodrick  is  said  to  be  as  full  of  new  schemes 
as  a  female  herring  of  roe  ;  and  he  is  only  waiting 
Lord  Roberts'  return  to  develop  them.  I  hear  Lord 
Roberts  is  tired  and  worn  ;  and  I  am  anxious  lest  he 
should  fail  in  will  and  tenacity.  If  only  he  is  strong, 
he  can  get  anything  he  wants.  It  is  a  critical  moment 
for  the  army  and  the  country.  If  Lord  Roberts  will 
strike  while  the  iron  is  hot,  we  could  get  an  army 
worthy  of  the  nation.  If  not,  the  iron  will  soon  cool, 
and  our  last  state  will  be  worse  than  our  first. 

I  am  very  fond  of  Lord  Roberts  ;  but  I  own  it  has 
hurt  me  to  see  so  much  said  of  him,  and  so  little  of 
Lord  Wolseley,  who  had  done  more  for  the  army 
than  any  man  living,  and  that  in  the  face  of  the  most 
tremendous  difficulties.  He  does  already  find  his  life 
dull.  He  wrote  to  me  a  few  days  ago,  and  said  that  he 
began  to  realize  he  had  no  more  work  to  do  for  the 
army,  that  he  could  not  be  idle  and  must  look  out  for 


134  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

something  to  do.     I  am  in  terror  lest  he  should  get 
into  the  hands  of  another  Whitaker  Wright.  .  .  . 

I  don't  know  how  I  am  to  see  you  when  you 
return  to  town,  as  I  never  leave  War  Office  till  between 
6  and  7,  and  then  too  tired  to  see  anyone.  Sunday  I 
might  manage  it,  or  if  you  would  be  very  kind  and 
eat  a  simple  dinner  with  me  some  evening. 

Ever  yours  very  sincerely, 

H.  Brackenbury. 

It  was  curious  how  each  of  the  two  men,  first  Lord 
Wolseley  and  then  Lord  Roberts,  successively  secured 
adequate  appreciation,  and  especially  how  the  latter, 
after  having  been  apparently  rather  relegated  to  the 
background,  ended  his  life  in  a  completely  command- 
ing position.  He  had  always,  however,  had  many 
sincere  and  powerful  supporters — amongst  them  the 
late  Duke  of  Cambridge. 

On  one  occasion,  indeed,  at  a  dinner  at  the  Army 
and  Navy  Club  the  Duke,  after  denouncing  our 
system  of  War  Administration  under  a  Civilian, 
turned  to  Lord  Roberts  and  before  everyone  said, 
"  You  ought  to  be  War  Minister." 

According  to  an  account  written  to  my  mother  it 
was  a  very  lively  scene  indeed.  Some  years  later  at 
Ascot  my  mother  saw  a  good  deal  of  Lord  Roberts, 
with  the  result  that  she  conceived  the  greatest  admira- 
tion for  his  charming  nature  and  splendid  qualities. 

The  Duke  of  Cambridge  was  particularly  fond  of 
her  for  which  reason  she  was  very  much  in  request 
to  meet  him. 

In  one  of  her  letters  to  Lady  Airlie  she  said  : 

Dearest  Best  of  Friends, 

What  have  I  to  say  that  can  in  any  way  com- 
pensate for  your  always  beautiful  letters  ? 

If  I  were  you  I  should  give  up  everything  and  take 
to  writing,  you  are  such  a  genius  in  that  way. 

For  me,  alas !  a  pen  in  my  hand  is  an  unweildy 


DUKE  OF  CAMBRIDGE  135 

weapon  both  for  sense  and  calligraphy — and  then 
what  have  I  to  say,  for  you  hear  all  through  the  news- 
papers ?  .  .  . 

What  a  mercy  the  Emperor's1  dying  at  last — but 
what  cursing  and  swearing — the  d — room2  being  put 
off. 

I  have  had  dinners  enough  for  10  little  bodies  like 
mine  and  always  to  meet  the  D.  of  Cambridge.  I 
have  now  5  on  hand  to  meet  him,  but  I  suppose  now 
the  royalties  will  be  shut  up. 

The  Government  seem  very  strong,  and  Ld.  Salis- 
bury himself  told  me  he  was  almost  alarmed  at  their 
prosperity. 

The  Queen  occupies  73  rooms  of  Lady  Crawford's 
villa  at  Florence. 

She  has  sent  lots  of  furniture,  carpets,  and  curtains, 
which  are  all  to  go  back  and  they  all  are  marked 
"  Mausoleum." 

I  have  had  such  a  loss  in  Cotter  Morison's  death. 
He  was  always  so  kind  and  indulgent  to  me  and  so 
agreeable. 

I  only  knew  him  in  July.  I  regret  now  I  ever  knew 
him ;  it  was  only  a  fresh  cord  to  be  snapped  asunder 
so  soon. 

Yr.  affec. 

D.  N. 

Up  to  the  time  of  his  death  the  Duke  of  Cambridge 
continued  to  show  her  the  greatest  friendliness,  and 
often  came  to  see  her,  for  he  liked  to  talk  of  old  friends 
and  the  days  which  had  long  passed  away. 

At  the  time  when  the  old  Duke  relinquished  the 
post  of  Commander-in-Chief,  which  he  had  held  for 
so  many  years,  it  was  rumoured  in  some  quarters  that 
he  had  done  so  with  the  greatest  reluctance.  This  was 
perfectly  true  as  the  following  letter  shows. 

1  The  Emperor  Frederick. 
*  Drawing-room. 


136  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Gloucester  House, 

Park  Lane,  W. 

June  25,  1895. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Thanks  for  your  kind  note  just  received.  It 
is  very  dear  of  my  friends  to  sympathize  with  me,  as 
I  know  you  and  they  all  do.  I  never  resigned  nor  even 
contemplated  resignation,  but  when  told  that  these 
proposed  changes  were  to  be  carried  out,  I  had  no 
choice  left  but  that  of  not  offering  any  resistance 
in  my  person  and  thus  it  has,  alas !  come  about.  It 
simply  amounts  to  my  being  most  summarily  turned 
out,  and  at  the  shortest  notice  without  my  retirement 
being  awarded  to  me  !  !  Strong  order  this  I  think  !  !  ! 
after  39  years  in  my  present  high  position.  It  is  very 
sad,  but  my  friends  are  most  kind. 

I  remain, 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

George. 

Amongst  my  mother's  military  friends  were  several 
soldiers  who  belonged  to  the  pre-Wolseley  school — 
men  who  considered  that  a  properly  conducted  war 
should  be  "  half -campaign,  half -picnic."  Such  a  one 
was  the  late  General  Crealock,  a  pleasant  social  figure 
who  had  some  pretensions  to  being  a  good  amateur 
artist.  Mischievous  people  used  to  say  that  the 
original  cause  of  his  military  advancement  was  a  happy 
turn  for  caricaturing  which  had  amused  the  Head- 
quarters staff  in  the  Crimea.  The  talents  of  this 
pleasant  soldier  of  a  bygone  era  were  indeed  rather 
more  artistic  than  military.  Noted  for  the  originality 
of  his  dress  he  ignored  fashion,  and  indulged  in  a 
somewhat  florid  style  of  costume,  while,  in  defiance 
of  military  regulations,  he  sported  a  curly  beard. 

Sir  Redvers  Buller,  then  one  of  the  younger  school 
of  soldiers,  began  to  be  an  occasional  visitor  at  lunch 
about  the  same  date.     He  was  much  interested  in  a 


SIR  HENRY  IRVING  187 

collection  of  old  brass  boxes  which  my  mother  was 
forming,  and  in  1892  sent  her  a  very  curious  speci- 
men. 

"  So  many  pleasant  hours  in  my  life,"  wrote  he, 

1  are  associated  with  a  recollection  of  a  trayful  of 

brass    boxes,    that    when    I    saw    the    one    I    send 

herewith,   the  other  day,   I   could  not  resist  getting 

it." 

The  navy  was  represented  by  Lord  Alcester,  other- 
wise known  as  the  "  Swell  of  the  Ocean  "  on  account 
of  his  immaculate  style  of  dress. 

To  the  Sunday  lunches  came  many  celebrated 
actors  and  actresses.  Sir  Squire  and  Lady  Bancroft, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kendal,  Sir  Henry  Irving  and  Miss 
Ellen  Terry  were  to  be  seen  from  time  to  time — of 
Lady  Bancroft  my  mother  was  especially  fond. 
Miss  Calhoun,  now  Princess,  was  also  a  frequent 
visitor.  Sir  Charles  Wyndham,  Miss  Mary  Moore, 
Mrs.  John  Wood,  Sir  George  and  Lady  Alexander, 
Lady  Tree  and  practically  all  the  chief  theatrical 
figures  of  the  late  Victorian  and  Edwardian  eras  came 
to  lunch  at  one  time  or  another. 

It  was,  I  believe,  at  one  of  these  lunches  that  it  was 
first  announced  that  Mrs.  Langtry  (whom  my  mother 
did  not  know)  was  going  on  the  stage. 

At  that  time  such  a  thing  as  an  amateur  trying  to 
vie  with  professionals  was  almost  unheard  of  and  it 
created  quite  a  sensation. 

"  Mrs.  Langtry,"  wrote  my  mother  to  a  friend,  "  is 
the  topic ;  she  certainly  is  very  handsome,  but  is  too 
quiet  and  I  might  say  too  ladylike  ever  to  become  a 
great  actress,  but  the  attempt  is  praiseworthy  and 
the  male  gender  cry  her  up  immensely." 

For  Sir  Henry  Irving  my  mother  had  a  great  admira- 
tion and  respect  which  was  thoroughly  reciprocated 
by  this  prince  among  actors. 

Irving  used  constantly  to  send  her  any  trifles  which 
he  thought  likely  to  amuse  her.  She  liked  to  have  her 
friends'    bookplates,    and    having    seen    a    new    one 


138  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

designed  for  Sir  Henry  by  Mr.   Bernard   Partridge, 
she  told  him  how  much  she  should  like  a  specimen 
which  in  due  course  he  sent  her. 
Two  years  later  he  wrote  : 

Liverpool. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  wish  indeed  that  I  could  be  with  you  on  the 
14th,  but,  alas !  I  shall  be  struggling  on  in  Manchester 
trying  to  feed  and  keep  together  my  ravenous  flock 
of  a  hundred  souls,  I  mean. 

In  a  month's  time  I  hope  to  be  back  for  a  little 
while  and  look  forward  to  the  infinite  pleasure  of 
seeing  you  then. 

How  splendid  was  the  Prince's  victory.  Really, 
a  national  rejoicing.  The  enthusiasm  of  these  Midland 
Counties  has  been  tremendous,  and  this  is,  I  suppose, 
the  most  powerful  part  of  the  Kingdom. 

Ask  Mr.  Chamberlain  if  you  think  of  it,  and  please 
give  him  my  warmest  congratulations  and  greeting. 
I  wish  I  could  have  expressed  them  in  person. 

Just  off  to  Manchester. 

Believe  me, 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

(Sgd.)  Henry  Irving. 
June  7,  1896. 

From  time  to  time  a  diplomatist  or  two  would  put 
in  an  appearance.  I  think  that  of  all  the  representa- 
tives of  Foreign  Powers  who  came  to  Charles  Street 
my  mother  liked  Mr.  Choate  about  the  best,  she 
entertained  an  unbounded  admiration  for  his  clever- 
ness. The  United  States  ambassador  was  very  appre- 
ciative of  the  regard  she  bore  towards  him,  and  during 
his  term  of  office  in  England  was  very  thoughtful 
about  sending  her  books,  besides  being  a  more  or  less 
constant  visitor  at  her  house. 


MR.  CHOATE  139 

In  November,  1903,  he  wrote  : 

1  Carlton  House  Terrace,  S.W. 

November  10,  1903. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I've  been  quite  too  busy  to  be  decent  the  last 
few  days  and  should  have  answered  your  kind  note 
much  sooner. 

I  shall  come  to  your  lunch  on  the  16th  at  2  with 
the  greatest  pleasure,  first,  because  I  love  your  lunches, 
and  second  because  the  mere  hint  of  being  crossed  out 
of  your  books  is  truly  alarming. 

As  you  were  so  good  as  to  be  pleased  with  my 
romance  of  Lincoln,  I  am  sending  you  in  a  day  or 
two  an  equally  romantic  memoir,  that  of  Benjamin 
Franklin,  which  I  hope  you  will  also  like.  The  fact 
is  that  the  bare  facts  of  the  lives  of  these  two  great 
men  make  fascinating  romances  without  the  need  of 
any  embellishment. 

Mrs.  Choate  says  that  you  were  most  kind  and 
charming  to  her  last  night. 

Yours  most  truly, 

Joseph  H.  Choate. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  luncheon  parties  continued 
to  be  given  in  the  new  reign  ;  indeed,  they  were 
especially  flourishing  during  the  first  years  of  the 
twentieth  century. 

Writing  in  July,  1901,  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  said  : 

"  You — I  suppose — have  been  in  the  thick  of  the 
recent  earthquake  in  the  Radical  Party  ?  I  expected 
to  hear  that  you  had  given  Asquith  a  luncheon-party, 
and  had  asked  Lord  Rosebery  and  T.  P.  O'Connor 
and  the  King  to  meet  him.  You  might  have  given 
them  guinea-pig  to  eat,  as  you  gave  George  Russell 
on  a  famous  occasion  which  makes  me  laugh  every 
time  I  think  of  it." 

The  idea  of  a  ragout  of  guinea-pig  had  originally 


140  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

been  suggested  to  my  mother  by  the  Duchess  of 
Somerset — one  of  the  three  beautiful  Sheridan  sisters 
who  had  attracted  so  much  attention  as  Queen  of 
Beauty  at  the  Eglinton  tournament. 

The  Duchess  in  later  years,  being  like  my  mother 
fond  of  trying  novelties,  gave  the  latter  a  pamphlet 
dealing  with  the  guinea-pig  as  food  and  how  to 
cook  it. 

In  due  course  a  luncheon  took  place  at  Charles 
Street,  the  piece  de  resistance  being  a  dish  compounded 
of  the  little  tailless  animals.  The  guests  apparently 
enjoyed  themselves,  though  one  or  two  seemed  rather 
puzzled  at  the  queer  little  bones.  My  mother,  how- 
ever, could  not  help  letting  out  the  secret — with  the 
result  that  when  she  asked  the  same  guests  again, 
they  accepted,  only  with  the  reservation  that  guinea- 
pig  as  a  dish  should  be  barred. 

In  spite  of  his  staunch  Radicalism  Mr.  George 
Russell  was  always  a  most  welcome  guest  at  Charles 
Street.  My  mother  considered  him  almost  unequalled 
as  a  conversationalist,  whilst  thoroughly  appreciating 
his  books  which  have  stamped  him  as  one  of  the  best 
social  chroniclers  of  his  time. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Society  in  Victorian  days — Miss  Mary  Anderson — Anecdote — An 
unpresentable  millionaire — Lord  Palmerston — Anecdotes — Lord  Ellen- 
borough — Lord  Beaconsfield — His  career — Anecdotes — At  Strath- 
fieldsaye — Ecclesiastical  flair — His  life  by  Mr.  Mony penny — Mr. 
Gladstone  —  Anecdotes  —  Lord  Sherbrooke  —  Lord  Salisbury  —  Sir 
Henry  Campbell-Bannerman  —  Lady  Warwick  —  Socialism  —  Modern 
politicians  and  their  ways. 

LONDON  Society  in  mid- Victorian  days  was 
different  from  what  it  had  become  before  the 
outbreak  of  the  Great  War.  Life  was  simpler 
and  less  luxurious — ladies  did  not  go  to  the  few 
restaurants  there  were,  and  all  entertaining  was  done 
in  private  houses.  First-rate  cooks,  however,  were 
rare,  and  many  dinner-givers,  following  the  example 
set  hy  Lord  Beaconsfield,  resorted  to  caterers  who 
provided  everything  at  a  fixed  price. 

Social  conventions  were  more  rigorous.  Laxness 
about  keeping  appointments  would  not  have  been 
tolerated,  while  being  late  for  lunch  or  dinner  was 
considered  a  real  social  crime.  Unpunctuality  was 
introduced  at  a  later  period  by  certain  rich  American 
women  and  listless  idlers  who  thought  it  smart  to  keep 
people  waiting.  The  vulgar  habit  spread,  and  some 
ladies,  whom  wealth  had  softened  into  partial  im- 
becility, even  got  into  the  habit  of  boasting  that 
"  they  never  could  be  in  time  " — one  noted  for  arriving 
half  through  dinner  was  even  said  to  pride  herself  upon 
having  forgotten  the  taste  of  soup  ! 

With  the  growth  of  "  millionaire  worship  "  arose  a 
distaste  for  the  elegant  and  often  cultured  leisure 
which  formerly  constituted  one  of  the  regular  amen- 
ities of  educated  people  fitted  to  appreciate  the 
wonder  and  beauty  of  life. 

141 


142  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

It  is,  perhaps,  only  natural  that  millionaires  should 
imagine  that  money  can  do  anything — they  do  not, 
however,  always  find  this  to  be  the  case. 

The  late  King,  when  Prince  of  Wales,  being  about 
to  dine  with  a  very  wealthy  financier,  the  latter,  in 
order  to  ensure  the  success  of  his  dinner,  tried  to  get 
Miss  Mary  Anderson  (then  enchanting  London  as 
Galatea)  to  be  one  of  the  party. 

To  his  annoyance,  he  found  this  a  hopeless  task — 
the  charming  lady  kept  herself  very  much  aloof. 

At  his  wit's  end,  he  eventually  went  to  Mitchell's, 
in  Bond  Street,  and  asked  him  to  send  Miss  Anderson 
an  invitation,  and  with  it  an  offer  of  a  thousand  pounds 
if  she  would  come. 

He  met  with  a  flat  refusal,  and  the  millionaire  never 
succeeded  in  luring  the  beautiful  actress  to  his  house. 

"  Society,"  in  the  old  sense  of  the  word,  has  now 
long  ceased  to  exist  ;  but  there  are  still  a  number  of 
people  who  believe  themselves  to  hold  a  position 
superior  to  that  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

Their  portraits  appear  in  the  weekly  papers  and 
they  haunt  those  fashionable  restaurants  which,  as  it 
were,  dispense  social  celebrity  over  the  counter. 

There  exist  also  various  coteries  claiming  to  be 
cultured. 

In  spite  of  a  real  or  pretended  love  for  Music  and  Art, 
the  majority  of  so-called  smart  society — smart,  but 
not  witty  ;  flashy,  but  scarcely  gay — was,  in  the 
days  before  the  War,  really  only  amused  by  childish 
things. 

A  Society  which  almost  openly  worships  wealth — 
which  knows  the  price  of  most  things  and  the  worth  of 
none — must  of  necessity  have  a  narrow  outlook. 

Like  a  savage  community,  it  is  almost  totally  un- 
able to  comprehend  abstract  thought,  while  the 
acquiring  of  knowledge,  merely  for  knowledge's  sake, 
seems  to  it  mere  boredom  and  waste  of  time. 

It  cannot  realize  and  does  not  wish  to  understand 
the  mystery  and  significance  of  the  past — a  not  in- 


MILLIONAIRES  143 

considerable  part  of  it,  indeed,  but  dimly  appreciates 
the  present. 

Among  a  certain  feminine  section  (some  members  of 
which,  however,  make  up  by  their  good  looks  for 
what  they  lack  in  brains)  a  colossal  denseness  runs 
riot. 

"  Some  one  told  me  you  were  interested  in  politics," 
was  the  remark  of  one  of  these  ladies  on  being  intro- 
duced to  an  ex- Prime  Minister  ! 

Ignorance  of  this  sort,  however,  is  really  a  very 
minor  social  fault.  There  is,  indeed,  a  kind  of  inanity 
which  in  pretty  women  (as  Talleyrand  said)  becomes 
positively  reposeful. 

What  is  much  worse  is  the  assumption  of  un- 
warrantable airs  by  brainless  people  who  consider  that 
the  possession  of  wealth,  often  gained  by  very  dubious 
methods,  entitles  them  to  indulge  in  unlimited  bad 
manners. 

My  mother,  speaking  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  the 
deterioration  of  "  Society,"  said  : 

"It  is  all  owing  to  these  low-lived  millionaires 
promenading  their  wealth,  and  we  asses  thinking  we 
must  copy  them  at  all  risks." 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  with  the  awakening  of  England 
from  the  nightmare  of  the  Great  War  less  toleration 
will  be  accorded  to  purse-proud  arrogance  and  caprice. 

Armageddon  has  already  rubbed  a  good  deal  of  gold 
off  a  number  of  gilded  parvenus  ;  let  us  hope  that  a 
certain  amount  of  vulgarity  may  be  found  to  have  gone 
as  well ! 

As  has  been  justly  said,  "  Society  is  as  much  a 
sphere  of  Art  as  any  of  the  more  recognized  spheres." 
In  the  early  seventies  and  eighties  this  was  still  recog- 
nized, and  a  large  stock-in-trade  of  wealth  and  assur- 
ance did  not  of  necessity  make  its  possessor  a  pro- 
minent social  figure,  as  became  the  case  just  before  the 
Great  War.  A  certain  amount  of  wealth,  it  is  true,  is 
a  primal  necessity  of  human  society,  and  hosts  and 
hostesses  able  to  entertain  are  also  necessary.    There 


144  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

can,  however,  be  only  one  real  reason  for  making 
much  of  people  when  they  lack  taste  and  have  no 
sense  of  propriety — this  is  the  hope  of  getting  some- 
thing out  of  them.  The  West  End  hastened  to  take 
advantage  of  this  hope  (which  was  in  but  few  instances 
fulfilled)  and  a  number  of  cosmopolitan  financiers  and 
wealthy  aliens  in  consequence  contrived  to  have  most  of 
what  was  left  of  English  Society  at  their  feet.  In  some 
cases  the  conquerors  frankly  despised  their  own  be- 
longings. 

The  nervous  energy  which  is  essentially  the  attribute 
of  commercial  America  when  unaccompanied  by  a 
sense  of  restraint  is  apt  to  become  ridiculous  in  the 
social  sphere,  and  a  certain  transatlantic  heiress, 
notorious  for  her  ludicrous  airs,  is  said  to  have  actually 
prohibited  her  old  vulgar  father  from  putting  in  an 
appearance  at  his  son-in-law's  ancestral  home,  lest  his 
dreadful  appearance  and  unconventional  ways  should 
shock  the  aristocratic  parties  wont  to  assemble  there. 
This  was  the  more  hard  upon  the  old  man,  as  it  was 
confidently  asserted  that  on  his  arrival  she  had  in- 
sisted upon  his  hiring  a  tutor  to  teach  him  an  English 
accent  and  an  English  mode  of  speaking,  as  well  as  to 
get  rid  of  a  confirmed  habit  of  "  eating  out  loud." 

The  London  Society  of  former  days  delighted  in 
"  parties  "  where  people  went  to  meet  one  another  and 
talk. 

The  parties  given  by  great  political  personalities 
formed  part  of  the  machinery  by  which  the  West  End 
practically  governed  England.  The  importance  of 
such  functions  was  indeed  officially  recognized  by  the 
Foreign  Office,  which  previous  to  the  War  on  certain 
occasions  indulged  in  this  form  of  social  relaxation. 

According  to  my  mother,  the  most  pleasant  parties 
she  remembered  were  those  formerly  given  at  Cam- 
bridge House,  now  the  Naval  and  Military  Club  : 

"...  the  mansion,  hallowed  by  a  mighty  shade, 
Where  the  cards  were  cut  and  shuffled  when  the  game  of  state 
was  played." 


LORD  PALMERSTON  145 

Here  lived  Lord  Palmerston  from  1850  till  the  date 
of  his  death,  while  Premier,  in  1865,  and  here  took 
place  the  social  functions  which  were  rendered  so 
agreeable,  owing  to  the  grace  and  suavity  displayed 
by  his  wife. 

Though  her  social  tact  was  in  a  great  degree  natural, 
there  is  no  doubt  but  that  it  was  further  developed  by 
her  husband,  for  there  was  no  more  adroit  manager  of 
men  and  women  than  this  jaunty  old  Tory  who,  though 
nominally  a  Liberal,  judged  every  question  on  its 
merits. 

In  several  respects,  as  it  was  once  aptly  said,  Lord 
Palmerston  realized  Hume's  character  of  George 
Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Though  genial  to  an 
extreme,  he  was  not  lacking  in  cynicism.  This  occa- 
sionally manifested  itself  in  remarks  such  as  "  I  have 
only  known  one  woman  who  refused  gold,  and  she 
took  diamonds."  He  had  French  levity  combined  with 
English  familiarity,  and  never  did  there  exist  a  more 
conspicuous  instance  of  the  triumphant  value  of  tactful 
manners.  His  complete  realization  of  his  powers  in 
this  direction  enabled  him  on  occasion  even  to  retard 
the  passage  of  a  distasteful  Bill.  No  one  better  than 
he  knew  the  value  of  shaking  hands  in  the  lobby  with 
members  likely  to  give  trouble,  and  of  asking  their 
wives  to  Saturday  soirees.  It  was  his  habit  to  speak 
to  every  M.P.  as  if  he  was  well  acquainted  with  his 
name  and  family. 

The  English  people  as  a  whole  reposed  the  most  un- 
bounded confidence  in  Lord  Palmerston,  largely,  no 
doubt,  owing  to  his  Civis  Romanics  Sum  attitude, 
which  stood  him  in  good  stead.  His  own  remarkable 
optimism  as  regards  himself  also  greatly  assisted  his 
popularity.  He  was  one  of  those  happy  people  who 
thought  everything  he  did  was  right.  It  took  a  very 
great  deal  to  ruffle  his  serene  and  easy  gaiety. 

Attending  church  one  day  during  a  country-house 
visit,  the  clergyman  preached  so  pointedly  and  con- 
tinuously at  him  that  those  sitting  near  him  felt  un- 
10 


146  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

comfortable,  thinking  Lord  Palmerston  would  be 
annoyed — to  all  outward  appearance,  however,  the 
latter  remained  completely  unconcerned. 

After  church  his  host  could  not  help  beating  about 
the  bush  to  discover  whether  the  old  statesman  was 
annoyed,  but  his  efforts  proving  vain  he  at  last 
pointedly  inquired  whether  his  guest  had  not  seen  the 
drift  of  the  allusions,  and  whether  he  resented  them. 
"  He,  he,  he  !  "  laughed  his  Lordship  :  "  Fancy  my 
minding  what  the  parson  said  ! — a  man  I  would  not 
consult  on  the  commonest  affairs  of  life  !  " 

In  many  ways  Lord  Palmerston  voiced  the  spirit  of 
his  age.  In  artistic  matters,  for  instance,  his  opinions, 
as  it  was  once  remarked,  were  calculated  to  have  made 
Ruskin  wish  to  pitch  all  the  "  stones  of  Venice  "  and 
the  whole  of  his  "  seven  lamps  "  at  his  Lordship's 
head. 

He  especially  despised  emotional  athleticism  and 
was  essentially  practical  in  his  ideas,  which  was  prob- 
ably why  political  visionaries  were  so  much  out  of 
sympathy  with  him. 

Cobden,  for  instance,  had  a  great  aversion  to  his 
policy  and  his  ideas,  and  would  humorously  com- 
plain, "  Alas,  in  spite  of  all  I  say  about  the  old 
gentleman,  he  will  still  call  me  his  '  honourable 
friend.' " 

If  only  (said  my  mother  in  later  years)  Mr.  Cobden 
could  have  heard  the  eulogium  that  same  old  gentle- 
man passed  upon  him  after  his  death,  I  wonder  what 
he  would  have  said  ? 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Cobden's  dying  verdict  upon 
Lord  Palmerston  was  "  always  a  very  generous  man." 

From  the  way  my  mother  used  to  speak  of  him 
Cobden  must  have  possessed  an  attractive  individu- 
ality— it  was  Cobden  the  man  not  Cobden  the  politician 
that  she  liked.  She  troubled  herself  little  about  his 
mania  for  Free  Trade,  which  in  no  way  appealed  to 
her. 

To-day  all  who  have  lived  to  see  the  Great  War 


LORD  ELLENBOROUGH  147 

must  realize  how  hopelessly  wrong  was  his  dream  that 
the  love  of  dominion  and  aggrandisement  among  the 
nations  would  be  overcome  by  the  policy  of  "  fighting 
hostile  tariffs  with  free  imports." 

Though  Cobden  would  appear  to  have  been  ani- 
mated by  a  sincere  love  of  humanity  his  detractors 
declared  that  he  kept  a  very  good  eye  upon  his  own 
interests. 

"  Peel  [wrote1  old  Lord  Ellenborough  to  my  mother], 
whatever  he  may  have  said  of  Richard  Cobden  and 
his  deeds,  thought  that  Bright  was  the  more  single- 
minded  man,  and  had  done  what  he  did  for  the  repeal 
of  the  corn  duty  for  the  sake  of  the  people,  not  for  his 
own." 

"  I  confess,"  added  the  old  Peer,  "  that  they  were 
both  unsuited  to  the  present  constitution  of  this 
country." 

Lord  Ellenborough  considered  that  both  Cobden 
and  Bright  wanted  to  Americanize  English  institutions 
— a  depraved  taste  inconceivable  in  reasonable  beings 
and  odious  beyond  words  to  those  who  like  himself 
belonged  to  the  "  old  school."  He  was  a  man  of 
cultivated  mind,  being  especially  fond  of  Dante. 

Years  later,  writing  to  Lady  Airlie,  my  mother  said  : 

"  You  talk,  dear,  of  Dante.  I  used  to  love  reading 
him  with  one  of  my  dear  friends. 

"  Ld.  Ellenborough  came  and  read  to  me — but 
since  then  I  have  such  sad,  sad  remembrances  of  him, 
I  have  not  dared  to  look  much  at  Dante  ;  but  yet  I 
have  never  forgotten  those  pleasant  days  when  Ld. 
E exalted  me  to  be  one  of  his  few  chosen  friends. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  how  many  pleasant  people  we  have 
known  have  passed  away — if  we  did  not  live  in 
memories  where  should  we  be  ? 

"  Think  of  the  many  spirits  which  we  hope  surround 
us — what  can  all  the  present  be  to  all  the  pleasure  we 
have  had  in  the  past  ?  " 

1  April  29th,  1865. 


148  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

My  mother  had  a  great  liking  for  this  fine  old  Tory, 
who  corresponded  freely  with  her.  Two  beautiful 
ponies  she  drove  in  her  pony  carriage  in  the  Park  were 
a  gift  from  him.  Lord  Ellenborough,  it  is  curious  to 
remember,  though  very  zealous  as  to  the  privileges  of 
aristocracy  and  entirely  out  of  sympathy  with  the 
aspirations  of  the  classes  below  it  in  the  social  scale, 
could  not  himself  be  said  to  have  patrician  blood  in 
his  veins. 

He  was,  however,  entirely  permeated  by  the  ideas 
of  a  vanished  era ;  his  mental  attitude,  indeed,  much 
resembled  that  of  the  nobles  of  the  Middle  Ages,  con- 
cerning whom  the  old  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  Lord 
Rosebery's  mother,  who  was  a  great  student  of 
mediaeval  history,  once  wrote  : 

"  I  think  that  during  two  centuries  the  aristocracy 
must  have  considered  being  killed  or  beheaded  a  sort 
of  natural  death." 

"War  and  Women"  (wrote  he),  "these  are  in 
reality  the  only  fit  interests  for  a  man  !  " 

What  with  Suffragettes  and  the  Germans,  his  Lord- 
ship would  have  had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  had 
he  lived  on  into  the  present  troublous  age. 

In  another  letter  concerning  the  tremendous  struggle 
then  raging  between  North  and  South,  he  said  :  "I 
have  been  following  every  movement  in  America  with 
the  deepest  interest,  for  the  thing  I  love  most  is  war. 
I  have  done  so  all  my  life.  I  had  rather  read  a  good 
account  of  a  battle  than  a  novel  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott." 

As  a  young  man  Lord  Ellenborough  was  strikingly 
handsome,  and  there  was  something  about  him  which 
my  mother  used  to  say  involuntarily  commanded 
admiration.  She  would  contrast  the  generation 
of  politicians  to  which  he  belonged  with  the  "  new 
men  "  whose  rise  to  political  power  she  had  seen, 
and  her  conclusions  were  not  flattering  to  the 
latter. 

In  common  justice,  however,  it  must  be  admitted 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD  149 

that  their  task  has  been  harder  and  more  difficult 
than  that  of  their  predecessors. 

In  a  calm  sea  every  man  is  a  pilot.  The  great 
Victorians  never  had  to  deal  with  such  a  danger- 
ous Germany  as  that  which  hoodwinked  their 
successors,  who  really  seem  to  have  believed  in  the 
Angel  of  Peace  which  Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  hoped  to 
install  in  the  uncouth  pile  erected  at  the  Hague. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  fulfilment  of  this  gentle- 
man's pet  scheme  of  a  Peace  Palace  inaugurated  a 
whole  series  of  wars,  the  very  devil  seemingly  having 
got  into  its  stones. 

Abuse  the  old  school  of  statesmen  as  much  as  you 
like — call  them  narrow-minded,  selfish,  brutal,  bigoted 
— apply  every  contemptuous  term  to  the  policies 
which  they  followed,  it  must  nevertheless  be  admitted 
their  sagacious  audacity  contrived  to  inspire  other 
nations  with  a  real  respect  for  England's  power. 

It  is  not  conceivable  that  a  Palmerston  or  a  Beacons- 
field  would  have  allowed  this  country  to  drift  into  the 
state  in  which  the  outbreak  of  the  Great  War  found 
her. 

At  that  time  not  a  few  thoughtful  men  declared 
1  that  a  man  like  Dizzy  might  have  saved  us  from  all 
this  " — but  there  was  no  man  like  Dizzy  at  hand  ! 

One  thing  is  pretty  certain,  which  is,  that  had 
"  Dizzy's  "  policy  of  keeping  on  good  terms  with  the 
Turks  been  followed,  we  should  have  saved  many 
valuable  lives,  our  prestige,  and  a  great  deal  of 
money. 

His  foresight  as  regards  the  East  was  wonderful.  A 
pet  scheme  of  his,  for  instance,  was  to  make  Cyprus 
a  strong  place  d'armes. 

^  During  the  sixties,  when  my  mother  lived  in  Upper 
Grosvenor  Street,  she  saw  a  great  deal  of  Disraeli, 
who  lived  in  the  house  opposite. 

She  had  known  him  since  her  early  girlhood,  and 
her  father  had  been  one  of  the  first  English  Peers  to 
welcome  the  son  of  old  Isaac  Disraeli  to  his  house. 


150  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  author  of  Lothair,  besides,  had  always  been  an 
intimate  friend  of  her  brother,  the  4th  Earl  of 
Orford. 

My  mother  well  remembered  "  Dizzy  "  in  what  she 
used  to  call  the  "  curly  days,"  by  which  she  meant  the 
era  of  masculine  ringlets,  black  velvet  dress-coats 
lined  with  white  satin,  tasselled  canes,  and  other 
appurtenances  of  fashionable  dandyism,  many  of 
which  were  affected  by  the  future  Tory  Premier,  who 
in  his  last  years  was  one  of  the  most  quietly,  even 
shabbily,  dressed  men  in  London. 

Her  description  of  him,  at  the  time  when  he  lived 
opposite  to  her  in  Upper  Grosvenor  Street,  was  a  man 
of  ever  varying  moods.  Grave,  gay,  very  despondent 
at  times,  very  jubilant  at  other  times.  In  later  years 
these  different  humours  seem  to  have  crystallized 
themselves  into  one  of  rather  sardonic  if  pensive 
reflection. 

He  smiled  little,  and  as  regards  laughter  somewhat 
resembled  Moltke,  who,  it  is  said,  after  he  had  reached 
years  of  discretion,  only  laughed  twice  :  once  when  he 
received  the  news  of  his  mother-in-law's  death  and 
again  when  someone  told  him  that  a  military  con- 
struction just  outside  Stockholm  was  considered  by 
the  Swedes  to  be  a  strong  fortress. 

The  memory  of  "  Dizzy  "  was  always  dear  to  my 
mother,  and  often  she  would  recall  the  tremendous 
struggles  of  his  younger  years  and  how  he  would  con- 
fide his  worries  to  her — his  struggles  were  not  only 
against  a  sea  of  debts  contracted  when  living  with  the 
reckless  exquisites  with  whom  he  loved  to  consort, 
they  were  also  against  the  prejudice  aroused  by  his 
Hebraic  descent.  Disraeli,  however,  rather  over- 
estimated the  opposition  he  had  to  encounter  owing  to 
this  latter  cause,  and  constantly  bewailed  it  to  my 
mother.  In  the  end,  however,  he  thought  that  he  had 
lived  down  most  of  his  unpopularity.  "It  is  all  well 
and  good  now,"  he  told  her  (on  assuming  the  Premier- 
ship) ;    "at  last  I  feel  my  position  assured." 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD  151 

Up  to  almost  the  last  years  of  his  life  Lord  Beacons- 
field  was  obsessed  by  worries  connected  with  lack  of 
money.  My  mother  used  to  describe  how  terribly  this 
weighed  upon  his  mind  at  times,  and  how  tremendously 
relieved  he  was  when  at  last  he  found  himself  in  a 
thoroughly  sound  financial  position. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  to  his  everlasting 
credit  that  he  ever  disdained  to  make  use  of  the  count- 
less opportunities  for  making  money  which  a  less 
scrupulous  or  high-minded  individual  in  such  a  position 
might  have  been  tempted  to  employ. 

His  financial  embarrassment  is  said  not  to  have 
arisen  entirely  from  his  own  youthful  extravagance, 
rumour  declaring  that  he  had  backed  Count  d'Orsay's 
bills  with  disastrous  results  to  himself.  It  is  rather 
curious  that  Disraeli  should  have  ever  been  embarrassed 
at  all.  His  father  left  him  £30,000 — when  thirty-five 
he  married,  and  his  wife  brought  him  about  £6,000  a 
year.  In  addition  to  this  he  made  large  sums  by  his 
books,  £10,000  it  was  said  by  Lothair  alone  !  Never- 
theless, it  is  certain  that  occasionally  his  financial 
troubles  almost  worried  him  to  death. 

As  a  young  man  his  difficulties  were  very  great, 
in  addition  to  being  crippled  by  financial  troubles 
and  by  prejudice  against  his  race  his  youthful 
dandyism  caused  many  to  hesitate  about  taking  him 
seriously,  and  even  when  he  had  surmounted  all  these 
obstacles  his  path  was  not  easy — he  had  to  educate  his 
party,  and  it  was  no  easy  task  to  drag  an  omnibus-load 
of  country  gentlemen  uphill. 

Both  at  Upper  Grosvenor  Street  and  at  Charles  Street 
Disraeli  was  a  constant  visitor,  and  for  years  he  wrote 
intermittently  to  my  mother.  Some  of  his  letters  have 
been  published  in  her  Reminiscences.  For  the  most 
part,  however,  they  deal  with  matters  of  purely 
personal  interest. 

All  through  his  life,  indeed,  he  seems  as  much  as 
possible  to  have  avoided  referring  to  politics  in  his 
correspondence.     His  letters  to  friends  were  full  of 


152  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

professions  of  affection,  of  admiration  for  the  "  um- 
brageous foliage  "  observed  at  their  country-places, 
and  the  like  ;  but  of  politics  and  persons  he  took  care 
to  write  but  little. 

His  letters  to  Lady  Bradford  (to  whom  he  wrote  at 
one  time  almost  every  day)  are,  however,  said  to  be 
very  interesting.  They  are  preserved  at  Weston  Park, 
Shifnal.  Unfortunately,  it  is  improbable  that  they 
will  ever  be  published. 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  about  the  time  that  the 
great  Tory  leader  had  been  made  Lord  Beaconsfield, 
my  mother  said  : 

45  Charles  Street, 

22nd. 
Dearest  Lady  Airlie, 

I  did  receive  your  letter  with  such  pleasure, 
I  wish  I  could  return  it  in  any  way  ;  but  I  am  not  a 
letter  writer,  nor  in  fact  anything — so  have  mercy. 
Our  visit  at  the  Bradfords'  did  very  well.  She  and  he 
so  dear  and  kind,  everyone  must  love  them.  Dizzy 
very  preoccupied  and  more  difficult  to  get  on  with 
than  ever.  He  sat  each  day  at  dinner  between  Lady  B. 
and  Lady  Chesterfield,  and  except  an  occasional 
meteor  of  intellect,  he  never  uttered.  Lady  B.  told 
me  that  tho'  he  was  so  often  coming  to  her,  and  yet 
hardly  ever  uttered — but  I  think  he  is  delighted  with 
being  Earl.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  worldly  leaven  in 
his  nature,  and  in  spite  of  his  genius  he  dearly  loves 
high  persons  and  high  places.  I  have  been  deep  in 
Ld.  Macaulay,  and  was  reading  last  night  his  descrip- 
tion of  Airlie  Lodge.  His  is  an  interesting  life,  so 
wrapped  up  in  his  books  and  family.  We  have  been 
so  happy  here  in  L.,  even  now  I  am  loth  to  leave  it. 
We  go  to  D.  to-morrow.  I  trust  all  may  be  well.  How 
sad  poor  Ld.  Lonsdale's  death.  How  happy  you  are 
in  your  Scotch  home,  but  then  you  have  a  nice  house — 
mine  is  such  a  horror,  I  can  do  nothing  but  earnestly 
wish  it  was  burnt  down.    I  am  afraid  Ld.  H.  Lennox 


"  DISRAELI" 

FKOM     AN     KTCHIM. 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD  153 

was  a  bad  case.    Dr.  Hooker  praises  Mr.  Mitford  so — 
says  he  is  so  practical  and  easy  to  get  on  with. 

Yr.  ever  affec. 
D.N. 

Though,  as  a  rule,  somewhat  taciturn,  there  were 
occasions  when  Disraeli  could  be  quite  hilarious. 

At  the  time  when  a  statue  of  the  Iron  Duke,  by 
Baron  Marochetti,  was  to  be  erected  near  Strath- 
fieldsaye,  the  second  Duke  entertained  a  large  party, 
one  of  whom  was  my  mother,  who  described  the 
proceedings  as  follows  : 

Dangstein, 

Petersfield. 

'65- 
My  dear  Lady  Airlie, 

I  am  most  anxious  to  know  how  you  are — pray 
— pray — let  me  know.  I  read  your  pamphlet  with 
great  interest,  and  also  sent  it  to  a  friend,  who  appre- 
ciated it  highly.  We  only  returned  from  our  visits 
yesterday.  First  we  went  to  Mentmore,  met  the 
Seymour  Egertons — a  nice  little  woman — a  Mr.  Bourke 
and  Mr.  B.  Osborne.  We  then  went  on  to  Bretby, 
where  we  met  the  Richmonds — such  a  nice  girl,  Lady 
Caroline — Londesboroughs — Wharncliffes,  Lady  A. — 
Curzons,  and  a  lot  of  racing  men  ;  Mr.  B.  Osborne 
also.  I  found  it  very  pleasant,  as  nearly  all  the  people 
were  friends  of  mine.  I  liked  Lady  Wharncliffe  very 
much.  We  then  proceeded  to  the  D.  V.'s  at  Drakelow, 
where  we  again  met  country  neighbours,  Sir  W.  Jolliffe 
and  his  dr — a  really  nice  person — and  again  Mr.  B. 
Osborne.  From  there  we  went  to  Strathfieldsaye — 
at  least  I  did,  as  Mr.  N.  had  to  return  home.  There 
was  a  large  party  assembled  to  witness  the  raising  of 
a  pillar  to  the  late  Duke — Mr.  Disraeli  to  speak  on  the 
occasion  ;  but,  alas  !  nothing  was  wanting  but  the  most 
important  part — the  pillar.  We  had  Stanhope,  Dizzy, 
Lady  C.  Wellesley  and  dr  and  Waldens,  Marochetti, 


154  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Count  Streleike,  Mr.  Russell  of  The  Times — Ld.  J.  Hay 
and  Ld.  Clanwilliam,  with  whom  I  made  great  friends. 
In  fact  I  spent  a  very  pleasant  time  altogether,  but  I 
am  delighted  to  get  home  and  to  my  daily  occupations. 
It  would  have  made  you  laugh  to  have  seen  the  Duke — 
Dizzy — Ld.  Stanhope,  etc.,  dancing  a  new  dance, 
which  consists  in  running  in  a  ring,  jumping  and  sing- 
ing,— "  What  have  you  got  for  supper,  Mrs.  Bond  ? — 
Ducks  in  the  garden,  geese  in  the  pond,  etc.  etc." 
Next  week  we  have  the  D.  of  Wellington — Waldens — 
Cadogan  and  dr,  Mr.  Calcraft,  Mr.  Wortley,  etc.  Do 
let  me  hear  how  you  are.  I  think  I  may  perhaps  come 
up  in  January  for  a  few  days.  I  should  so  like  to  see 
you. 

Ever  yr  very  affec. 

D.  N. 

Will  you  think  of  Miss  Harland  if  you  hear  of  any- 
thing ? 

There  was  an  element  of  uncertainty  about  Disraeli's 
speeches  as  there  was  about  his  moods.  In  addition  to 
being,  when  he  chose,  a  bitterly  sarcastic  speaker,  he 
was  also  at  times  a  very  original  and  disconcerting  one, 
a  peculiar  characteristic  being  that  it  could  never  be 
predicted  with  any  tolerable  degree  of  certainty  what 
he  would  say.  When,  for  instance,  all  England  was 
expectantly  waiting  for  a  pronouncement  as  to  Russia, 
which  the  then  Prime  Minister  was  expected  to  make 
at  a  great  banquet  in  the  Guildhall,  the  "  growing 
export  of  chemicals  "  formed  the  main  subject  of  his 
singularly  complacent  discourse. 

It  was  not  for  nothing  that  Disraeli  was,  so  to  speak, 
born  in  a  library.  His  early  environment,  no  doubt, 
gave  him  the  happy  knack  of  appropriating  many  a 
telling  phrase,  especially  from  Burke  and  Byron.  Not 
a  few  of  his  most  telling  phrases,  such  as  "  extinct 
volcanoes,"  and  "  a  sublime  mediocrity,"  he  owed  to 
these  two.    It  is,  however,  only  just  to  recognize  that 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD  155 

he  had  a  turn  for  phrase-making  which  was  quite 
peculiar  to  himself,  his  refusal  of  the  Tracy  Turnerelli 
wreath,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  intimately  connected 
with  honours  and  rewards,  was  a  good  example  of  this 
gift. 

He  was,  however,  rather  severe  upon  others  when 
they  did  something  of  the  same  sort.  He  once  twitted 
Sir  Robert  Peel  with  being  the  purveyor  of  classical 
chestnuts,  telling  the  latter  that  he  adorned  his 
speeches  with  quotations  from  the  classics  which  were 
the  better  appreciated  by  the  House  because  most  of 
them  had  already  received  a  full  meed  of  parlia- 
mentary approbation. 

On  the  other  hand,  Disraeli's  acquaintance  with 
literature  occasionally  led  him  into  making  observa- 
tions of  a  recondite  if  not  of  an  inappropriate  nature  ; 
a  case  in  point  being  his  description  of  a  parliamentary 
Whip  as  "  the  instrument  with  which  the  wars  of 
Nemea  were  won  !  " 

In  certain  directions,  however,  he  had  sympathies 
akin  to  those  of  the  modern  Socialist.  He  denounced 
the  selfishness  of  great  manufacturers  holding  them- 
selves responsible  to  no  man,  disapproval  of  the  long 
hours  which  then  prevailed,  and  boldly  declared  that 
the  rights  of  Labour  were  as  sacred  as  the  rights  of 
Property. 

With  great  prescience  he  foresaw  and  deplored  the 
increase  of  urban  population  and  the  coming  exodus 
from  the  land.    Forty  years  ago  he  said  : 

"  The  increase  of  population — and  a  population  not 
connected  with  the  cultivation  of  the  soil — that  is  the 
danger." 

And  who  shall  say  that  he  was  not  right  ? 

Dizzy  has  often  been  abused  as  the  author  of 
Household  Suffrage  pure  and  simple,  which  everybody 
of  impartial  political  thought  knows  to  be  the  principal 
cause  of  the  decadence  of  Parliament  as  a  sound 
institution. 


156  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Such  abuse  is  most  unjust. 

Writing  to  my  mother,  one  of  the  great  Tory  leader's 
followers,  who  was  in  the  House  of  Commons  at  the 
time,  said  :  "  I  can  testify  that  the  original  Bill  in  1867 
made  full  provision  for  the  representation  of  Education 
and  Property  by  enacting  in  addition  to  other  very 
proper  conditions  that  nobody  should  have  the  privilege 
of  the  franchise  unless  they  could  read  or  write  !  " 

"  Who  was  it  that  destroyed  the  provisos,  or  '  fancy 
franchises,'  as  the  Radicals  chose  to  call  them  ? 
Mr.  Gladstone,  who,  being  in  Opposition,  instead  of 
assisting  Disraeli  by  helping  him  to  pass  a  really 
statesmanlike  measure  which  would  have  enlarged  the 
electorate  at  the  same  time  that  it  preserved  the  just 
rights  of  property  and  education,  swept  all  the  safe- 
guards in  Disraeli's  Bill  away,  Dizzy  being  forced  to 
accept  his  amendments  or  throw  up  the  Bill." 

Truly  Mr.  Gladstone  alone  was  the  author  of  that 
evil  as  well  as  of  a  good  number  of  the  troubles  which, 
since  his  time,  we  have  had  to  endure  ! 

At  heart  Lord  Beaconsfield  had  but  a  poor  opinion 
of  English  democracy,  most  of  the  male  members  of 
which,  he  once  told  a  friend,  concentrated  their  minds 
upon  "  half  a  pint." 

With  the  triumph  of  an  urban  democracy  Lord 
Beaconsfield  feared  the  coming  of  something  akin  to 
mob  rule.  His  lack  of  confidence  in  the  political 
sagacity  of  the  working  class  made  him  think  that  its 
judgment  could  be  easily  swayed  by  unprincipled  and 
specious  agitators.  In  some  things,  however,  he  had 
very  liberal  views.  His  tenderness  for  the  poor  is 
shown  in  Sybil.  To  women  he  was  always  respectful, 
and  he  had  the  Jewish  love  of  family  life. 

Though  very  tolerant  in  religious  matters,  an  almost 
imperceptible  sneer  in  Lothair  indicates  that  he  had  no 
great  liking  for  the  Roman  Catholic  faith.  His  father, 
old  Isaac  Disraeli,  was  probably  more  or  less  sceptical 
about  all  religions,  but  his  son  seems  to  have  always 
been    favourably    disposed    towards    the    Church    of 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD  157 

England.  At  heart,  however,  he  was  a  philosopher 
with  little  love  of  dogma.  Returning  one  night  from 
the  House  of  Commons  with  a  great  friend,  my 
mother's  brother,  at  that  time  Member  for  North 
Norfolk,  Disraeli  said,  alluding  to  a  heated  debate  and 
division  upon  a  Church  question  :  "  How  curious, 
Walpole,  that  we  should  have  both  been  voting  for  an 
extinct  mythology  !  " 

In  his  ecclesiastical  appointments  he  showed  in- 
tuitive knowledge  of  an  extraordinary  kind — they 
were  almost  invariably  good.  He  had  a  great  flair  for 
putting  the  right  man  in  the  right  place.  On  one 
occasion,  when  great  efforts  were  made  to  give  prefer- 
ment to  Dr.  King,  he  resolutely  declined,  saying 
"  he  would  get  me  into  trouble." 

Gladstone  later  on  did  give  Dr.  King  what  he  wanted, 
and  sure  enough  he  gave  great  trouble.  Disraeli 
despised  the  unscrupulous  efforts  of  certain  strange 
ornaments  of  the  Church  to  get  what  they  wanted. 
"  A  pretty  letter,"  said  he,  speaking  of  a  note  sent  him 
by  a  certain  high  ecclesiastical  dignitary,  "  to  receive 
from  one  so  near  to  the  kingdom  of  God." 

In  spite  of  his  cynicism,  there  is  no  doubt  that 
Lord  Beaconsfield  was  perfectly  sincere  in  his  admira- 
tion for  those  Conservative  principles  which  he  worked 
so  hard  to  foster.  Though  at  one  time  rather  inclined 
to  hold  himself  aloof  he  came  to  realize  that  Con- 
servatism could  only  be  kept  going  by  a  stream  of 
clever  young  men. 

Never  did  he  miss  a  chance  of  promoting  the 
interests  of  his  party.  My  mother  used  to  contrast 
his  methods  of  gathering  in  promising  recruits  with 
the  casual  behaviour  of  certain  of  his  successors. 

In  the  latter  part  of  his  career,  though  never  a  rich 
man,  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  constantly  giving  dinners 
to  which  he  would  invite  young  men  likely  to  assist  his 
party.  My  mother  declared  that  many  a  useful  recruit 
had  been  secured  by  the  tact  of  the  host,  who  would 
take  the  trouble  after  dinner  to  go  and  engage  a 


158  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

political  waverer  in  familiar  conversation.  Not  a  few 
were  thus  converted  into  staunch  Tories. 

"  Would  any  of  the  modern  Conservative  leaders," 
said  she,  "  ever  think  of  boring  themselves  by  asking 
almost  unknown  but  clever  young  men  to  dinner  ? 
In  the  first  place,  unlike  Dizzy,  they  would  never  know 
where  to  find  them,  and  in  the  second,  outside  their 
own  particular  set,  they  don't  trouble  to  put  them- 
selves out  for  anyone.  And  that,"  she  would  add, 
"  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  modern  Conservatives 
are  so  hopeless." 

The  death  of  Lord  Beaconsfield  came  as  a  blow  to 
her,  though  in  his  last  years  she  had  seen  comparatively 
little  of  him.    Writing  to  Lady  Airlie,  in  1881,  she  said  : 

Stillyans, 

Horeham  Road, 

Hawkhurst. 
Oh,  my  dearest  Friend, 

What  have  you  to  say  at  this  universal  trouble  ? 
It  makes  me  more  than  ordinarily  sad,  for  it  reminds 
of  my  early  married  days,  when  I  saw  so  much  of  him 
in  his  griefs  and  his  triumphs.  For  twenty-one  years 
we  lived  near  each  other,  and  how  much  happiness  and 
brightness  had  I  then.  Now  all  my  dear  ones,  with 
but  few  exceptions,  are  gone — and  what  a  blank  it  all 
is.  I  am  a  philosopher,  but  yet  I  must  feel  deeply  this 
blow  for  tho'  I  had  not  in  later  years  seen  so  much  of 
him,  yet  when  I  did  see  him  he  was  always  the  same — 
nice  and  kind — and  for  us  all  we  have  lost  the  chief, 
almost  the  only  barrier  who  defended  us  from  the  mob 
and  dangerous  classes.  You  will  not  think  this ;  but 
it  is  true,  and  we  may  even  live  to  see  it.  I 
have  been  here  a  week  with  Ralph.  The  weather — at 
first — made  existence  a  luxury  ;  now,  alas  !  it  is  bitter 
winter ;  but  I  have  been  surrounded  by  primroses, 
daffodils,  and  violets — a  land  of  promise  truly.  This 
later  on  will  indeed  be  a  land  of  flowers.  I  have  such 
lovely  pansies  and  anemones  and  every  sort  of  daffodil, 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD  159 

and  such  a  lovely  marigold  called  Meteor — white  and 
yellow — and  such  wallflowers,  and  later  on  I  shall  have 
loads  of  everything  sweetest  in  the  garden.  It  is  such 
a  pleasure  watching  something  coming  forth  every  day 
fresh.  If  you  were  in,  I  should  so  like  to  send  you  by 
post  a  few  treasures.  This  weather  is  horrid,  for  there 
are  such  winds,  and  this  place  very  bleak,  but  it  suits 
me — quite  out  of  the  world,  not  a  soul — even  if  I 
wished  it.  Ralph  is  supremely  happy  with  his  gun, 
aiming  at  everything,  hitting  nothing.  It  is  so  charm- 
ing to  see  his  boyishness  and  delight  in  innocent  things. 
Oh  how  horrible  it  will  be  when  he  changes  and  wishes 
for  worldly  sins.  I  find  I  have  here  a  charming  old 
Delft  birdcage  such  as  they  use  for  signs  in  Holland. 
It  is  a  very  good  one  and  I  paid  a  good  deal  for  it, 
but  of  course  my  maid  and  the  railway  porters  com- 
bined managed  to  break  it ;  but  if  you  could  get  it 
mended  it  really  would  be  a  great  ornament  to  your 
dairy  and  I  should  be  so  glad  to  give  it  you.  I  enclose 
the  shape  of  it,  and  it  has  the  maker's  name  on  the 
back.  If  you  like  I  will  send  it  up  to  you  with  the 
flowers. 

Ever  yr.  loving  affec.  friend, 

D.  N. 

She  was  much  interested  in  the  still  uncompleted 
Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

In  a  letter  to  Lady  Airlie  she  asked  : 

"  What  do  you  hear  of  Mr.  Monypenny,  who  is  to  do 
Dizzy's  life  ?  If  he  only  makes  it  a  political  study  he 
will  do  wrong,  as  Dizzy  was  so  engulfed  in  fashion  and 
Society  ? 

"  Some  years  ago  I  was  shown  some  most  touchingly 
pathetic  letters  from  Dizzy  to  his  lawyer,  begging  for 
money,  however  small  a  sum — now  these  will  go  into 
the  life,  and  be  most  interesting  ;  but  how  Mr.  Mony- 
penny is  to  illustrate  this  social  side,  not  ever  having 
been  in  Society,  no  one  can  imagine  ? 


160  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

"  Mr.  M told  a  friend  of  mine  he  meant  to  take 

three  or  four  years  before  he  finished  or  even  began  it." 

Later  on  she  made  Mr.  Monypenny's  acquaintance, 
and  liked  him  very  much. 

He  became  indeed  a  constant  visitor  to  Charles 
Street,  and  his  premature  demise  caused  my  mother 
sincere  sorrow. 

She  gave  him  all  the  assistance  she  could  as  regards 
details  of  Disraeli's  life,  but,  unfortunately,  Mr.  Mony- 
penny  only  lived  long  enough  to  complete  the  second 
volume,  covering  a  period  up  to  1846,  which  was  about 
the  date  when  my  mother  first  met  the  great  Tory 
leader.  Mr.  Monypenny,  of  course,  had  never  seen 
Dizzy,  and  my  mother  rather  gathered  from  con- 
versations with  him  that  at  heart  he  had  no  very  great 
sympathy  with  his  methods,  which  seemed  to  him 
somewhat  flamboyant,  if  not  theatrical.  Nevertheless, 
he  threw  himself  heart  and  soul  into  his  task,  and 
succeeded  in  producing  two  volumes  of  notable  interest. 
Both  of  these  he  presented  to  my  mother,  the  first 
being  prefaced  by  the  following  letter  : 

4  Berkeley  Street,  W. 

October  26,  1910. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

You  will  receive  from  the  publisher  a  copy  of 
the  first  volume  of  my  life  of  your  illustrious  friend. 
Pray  accept  if  for  his  sake,  and  for  mine  do  not  judge 
it  too  severely. 

"  We  authors,  ma'am,"  as  Lord  Beaconsfield  said 
once  to  Queen  Victoria,  "  ought  to  stand  by  one 
another." 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

W.  F.  Monypenny. 

Though  my  mother  always  professed  the  most 
violent  antipathy  to  Mr.  Gladstone's  political  principles, 


MR.  GLADSTONE  161 

the  toleration  which  was  one  of  her  most  salient  and 
excellent  qualities  caused  her  to  admire  his  wonderful 
intellect,  and  in  spite  of  her  rabid  Tory  friends,  I 
believe  she  esteemed  it  a  privilege  to  meet  him. 

He  for  his  part  was  always  most  agreeable  to  her 
when  they  met.  In  his  old  age  he  wrote  her  a  charm- 
ing and  rather  pathetic  letter,  which  has  been  printed 
in  her  Reminiscences.  He  also  gave  her  his  signed 
photograph,  which  I  found  among  her  papers. 

Not  very  long  after  Lord  Beaconsfield's  death  she 
found  herself  sitting  next  Mr.  Gladstone  at  dinner, 
and  in  the  course  of  conversation  he  suddenly  said  : 
"  Tell  me,  Lady  Dorothy,  upon  your  honour,  have  you 
ever  heard  Lord  Beaconsfield  express  any  particular 
fondness  for  the  primrose  ?  "  She  was  compelled  to 
admit  that  she  had  not.  Upon  which  he  said  :  "  The 
gorgeous  lily,  I  think,  was  more  to  his  taste." 

Little  love  is  said  to  have  been  lost  between  Queen 
Victoria  and  the  Grand  Old  Man. 

On  one  occasion,  when  revisiting  after  sixty  years 
a  country  house  noted  for  its  picture  gallery,  Mr. 
Gladstone  is  supposed  to  have  made  a  remark  which 
proved  this. 

After  having  looked  closely  at  his  own  portrait  as  a 
young  man,  he  said  :  "I  must  have  been  very  good- 
looking  in  those  days."  His  comment  on  a  portrait  of 
the  Queen  was  :  "  She  is  as  small  in  person  as  she  is  in 
mind." 

It  would  be  curious  to  know  how  often  the  Grand 
Old  Man  sat  for  his  portrait ;  no  professional  beauty 
surely  was  ever  painted  as  many  times  as  he. 

A  few  of  these  portraits  were  admirable,  but  occa- 
sionally some  painter  would  perpetuate  an  atrocity. 

One  day,  when  my  mother  and  the  old  Duchess  of 
Somerset  were  at  the  Private  View  at  the  Royal 
Academy,  the  Duchess  pointed  out  a  gloomy  present- 
ment of  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  said  :  "  My  dear,  we  are 
avenged." 

At  a  dinner  in  the  eighties,  my  mother  met  three 
ii 


162  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Gladstones  (including,  of  course,  the  Grand  Old  Man), 
the  Duchess  of  St.  Albans,  the  Tavistocks,  the  William 
Harcourts,  Matthew  Arnold,  Bright,  and  Herbert 
Spencer. 

At  this  dinner  Mr.  Gladstone  spoke  much  of  Lord 
Beaconsfield,  over  whose  death  Matthew  Arnold  grieved 
to  my  mother,  whilst  contrasting  the  two  great  men, 
much  to  the  lost  one's  advantage. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  in  spite  of  his  great  intellect,  lived 
to  a  great  extent  in  a  world  of  illusions,  and  making 
every  allowance  for  his  lofty  aspirations  it  must  be 
admitted  that  he  was  less  often  right  than  wrong. 

His  sentimental  affection  for  Bulgaria,  in  the  light 
of  subsequent  events,  has  proved  a  tragic  mistake — 
the  psychology  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Balkan  States 
altogether  escaped  him.  He  himself,  I  fancy,  were  he 
still  alive,  would  strongly  disapprove  of  much  which 
has  been  done  by  those  who  claim  to  be  his  political 
heirs. 

It  is  a  curious  thing  that  practically  all  the  Utopian 
forecasts  of  the  old  school  of  Liberals  have  been 
absolutely  falsified,  probably  because  to  a  great  extent 
the  latter  never  realized  that  human  nature  cannot  be 
changed. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  however,  though  prone  to  idealistic 
illusions,  yet  possessed  a  peculiar  shrewdness  which 
extricated  him  from  many  an  awkward  predicament. 
His  verbal  adroitness  at  times  even  irritated  some  of 
his  own  followers. 

"  I  don't  so  much  object,"  once  said  the  late  Mr. 
Labouchere,  "  to  the  Grand  Old  Man  always  pro- 
ducing the  Ace  of  Trumps  from  up  his  sleeve,  but 
I  do  object  to  his  saying  that  the  Almighty  put  it 
there." 

In  extricating  himself  from  difficulties,  or  explain- 
ing any  awkward  happenings,  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
occasionally  supreme.  Perhaps  the  best  example  of 
his  peculiar  powers  in  this  line  was  his  defence  of  the 
Land  Act  of  1881.     When  it  had  proved  an  obvious 


MR.  GLADSTONE  163 

failure,  he  said  :  "  We  do  not  admit  that  the  measure 
has  been  a  failure,  but  admit  that  its  success  has  been 
incomplete." 

A  more  perfect  instance  of  parliamentary  equivoca- 
tion it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  find. 

Mr.  Gladstone  from  a  boy  upwards  would  not 
tolerate  any  conversation  which  verged,  however 
slightly,  upon  impropriety. 

My  uncle,  who  was  at  Eton  with  him,  used  to  say 
he  was  noted  for  this,  and  age  did  not  modify  his  views. 
As  a  consequence  of  this  austerity,  there  was  not  much 
real  sympathy  between  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Lowe, 
who  was  somewhat  flippant  by  nature,  and  occasionally 
rather  shocked  the  Grand  Old  Man's  strict  respect  for 
propriety. 

At  a  certain  dinner  party,  Mr.  Gladstone,  speaking 
across  a  lady  seated  between  them,  said  to  Mr.  Lowe  : 
"  I  cannot  think  why  they  called  Cobden  the  '  Inspired 
Bagman.'  " 

"  Neither  can  I,"  said  Lowe,  "  for  he  was  neither 
inspired  nor  a  bagman  ;  in  fact,  it  reminds  me  of  a 
story  told  of  Madame  de  Maintenon,  when  someone 
offered  to  obtain  admission  for  her  into  the  Maison  des 
filles  repenties.  '  Nay,'  said  Madame,  '  I  am  neither  a 
fille  nor  am  I  a  repentie.'  "  At  this  the  lady  between 
the  two  politicians  burst  into  a  laugh,  but  Mr.  Gladstone 
pulled  rather  a  long  face. 

Mr.  Lowe,  afterwards  Lord  Sherbrooke,  is  now  more 
or  less  forgotten,  but  he  was  a  very  prominent  figure 
in  the  heyday  of  his  career. 

A  fine  classical  scholar,  minor  poet  and  a  cynic, 
he  was  far  more  of  a  man-of-the-world  than  most  of 
our  modern  politicians.  For  Disraeli  he  had  the 
greatest  antipathy  and  dislike. 

Some  of  his  letters  written  to  my  mother,  besides 
being  full  of  gibes,  go  as  far  as  to  make  insulting 
accusations  as  regards  "  Dizzy." 

Socially  Lord  Sherbrooke  was  a  clever,  and  agree- 
able  man,   with   a   pleasant   gift   for    writing   verse. 


164  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Specimens  of  his  talent  in  this  direction  have  been 
printed  in  my  mother's  Recollections. 

His  spirits  during  the  lifetime  of  his  first  wife 
(whose  maiden  name  was  Orred,  which  gave  occasion 
to  punsters,  who  at  that  time  abounded,  to  call  it  an 
"  Orred  Lowe  match  ")  were  a  good  deal  damped  by 
her  chronic  ill-health  ;  in  consequence  of  which  her 
husband  was  forced  to  accompany  her  to  various 
foreign  spas  and  health  resorts,  which  he  did  not  like 
at  all. 

"It  is  curious,"  wrote  he  to  my  mother,  "  how 
well  I  get  on  by  myself.  What  fools  people  are  to 
marry  !  " 

Though  my  mother  did  not  go  quite  so  far  as  this, 
she  used  to  declare  that  very  clever  men  as  a  rule 
were  better  unmarried. 

She  had  noted  that  they  very  often  chose  brides 
who,  from  an  intellectual  point  of  view,  were  quite  un- 
worthy of  them. 

"  Very  passable  for  a  clever  man's  wife,"  was  her 
verdict  concerning  a  certain  lady  whose  husband  was 
noted  for  his  brains. 

Lord  Sherbrooke  was  always  a  great  admirer  of  my 
mother's  peaceful  and  good-natured  disposition. 

"  What  a  charming  world  it  would  be,  if  everybody 
were  like  you  !  "  said  he  in  one  of  his  letters. 

When  the  time  came  for  his  retirement  from  the 
House  of  Commons,  Mr.  Lowe  did  not  at  all  like  being 
shunted  to  the  "  solitary  siding  "  of  private  life.  Mr. 
Gladstone,  however,  having  concluded  that  the  time 
had  come  for  his  colleague  to  withdraw  to  that  political 
Long  Home,  the  House  of  Lords,  said  to  him  :  "  You 
are  too  old  to  be  in  the  Government ;  not  but  that 
you  are  younger  than  I — but  then,  I  am  an  excep- 
tion !  " 

Fate  rather  than  pride  has  taken  many  a  reluctant 
politician  up  to  the  House  of  Lords.  On  the  other 
hand,  not  a  few  have  taken  up  politics  merely  as  a 
convenient  path  to  the  attainment  of  a  Title. 


LORD  SALISBURY  165 

My  mother  could  be  very  amusing  on  this  subject. 
No  one  better  than  she  knew  the  reason  why  a  good 
many  of  the  honours  and  peerages  conferred  in  the 
middle  and  end  of  the  nineteenth  century  had  been 
given.  Lord  Beaconsfield,  though  not  as  bad  in  this 
line  as  some  who  followed  him,  occasionally  got  rid  of 
inconvenient  but  wealthy  followers  by  convenient 
shuntings  into  the  Upper  House.  In  answer  to  my 
mother's  inquiry  as  to  why  a  certain  wealthy  nouveau 
riche  of  small  mental  attainments  had  been  ennobled, 
he  said,  "  What  were  we  to  do  ?  he  was  doing  us  harm 
by  his  political  ambitions.  Wherever  he  stood  he  was 
beaten  ;  so  at  last  we  thought  the  best  way  to  get  rid 
of  him  would  be  to  send  him  to  the  House  of  Lords." 

For  the  late  Lord  Salisbury  my  mother  had  a  great 
admiration  and  respect.  She  often  went  to  Hatfield, 
the  beauties  of  which  she  greatly  admired.  While  she 
did  not  put  its  master  upon  the  same  pedestal  as 
Beaconsfield  or  Gladstone,  she  had  a  very  high  idea  of 
his  merits,  ranking  him  as  (except  for  Mr.  Chamberlain) 
the  last  of  the  great  English  politicians  who  have  left 
no  successors.  There  was  something  enigmatic  about 
this  statesman.  When  he  died  in  1904  an  old  friend 
of  my  mother's  wrote  to  her  : 

"  Lord  Salisbury's  death  makes  a  great  hole  in 
politics,  though  he  has  left  it  all  some  time.  He  was 
not  an  ideal  statesman,  too  aloof,  but  very  interesting, 
and  one  would  have  liked  to  have  lifted  the  veil." 

In  a  less  gifted  man  this  "  aloofness  "  might  have 
developed  into  a  dangerous  defect.  It  used  to  be 
jokingly  said  that  Lord  Salisbury  knew  very  few  of 
the  English  diplomats  in  whose  appointment  he  had 
acquiesced,  and  would  as  soon  have  made  his  butler 
ambassador  as  anyone  else.  As,  however,  he  personally 
conducted  all  the  diplomatic  affairs  of  the  country 
this  did  not  matter  so  much,  which  was  probably  the 
reason  which  made  him  so  indifferent  as  to  the  instru- 
ments who  carried  out  his  behests. 


166  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Lord  Salisbury  was  the  last  English  Prime  Minister 
whom  my  mother  can  be  said  to  have  known  really 
well. 

Mr.  Balfour,  of  course,  she  had  often  met.  She 
thought  him  wonderfully  clever — in  a  way  perhaps  too 
clever,  his  faculty  of  viewing  both  sides  of  a  question 
with  absolute  impartiality  being  a  quality  scarcely 
calculated  to  promote  political  strength. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Asquith  she  liked  socially.  Writing  a 
year  or  so  before  her  death,  she  said  : 

"  I  had  a  very  pleasant  luncheon  at  the  Asquiths' ; 
all  my  principal  adversaries  there,  including  L.  G., 
whom  I  thought  I  did  not  know,  but  who  came  up  to 
me  to  renew  my  acquaintance. 

"  I  had  met  him  twice  before.  But  surrounded  as  I 
was  by  all  these  evil  spirits,  I  went  away  rejoicing." 

For  the  political  views  of  Mr.  Asquith  she  of  course 
had  nothing  but  disapproval.  While  acknowledging 
his  great  intellectual  gifts,  she  thought  that  _  his 
acquiescence  in  the  ultra-Radical  ideas  of  his  Cabinet 
was  a  national  misfortune,  his  tendency  to  seek  an 
"  equality  of  opinion,"  and  apparent  reluctance  to 
arrive  at  a  decision  also  inspired  her  with  distrust. 

The  chief  political  characteristics  of  this  Minister 
appears  to  be  identical  with  that  attributed  to  Sir 
Robert  Walpole  by  Macaulay — a  willingness  to  meet 
daily  emergencies  by  daily  expedients  ;  and  leave  the 
rest  to  his  successors. 

Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman  she  considered  a 
good-natured  Scotchman,  who  happened  to  have 
taken  up  politics  as  a  hobby,  much  as  people  take  up 
golf.    He  was  certainly  easy-going. 

Writing  to  my  mother  on  September  18,  1907,  an 
old  friend  of  hers — a  lady — gave  a  glimpse  of  this 
cultured  Scotchman's  mental  outlook  :  "  Not  extreme 
in  anything,"  as  she  said. 

"  C.-B.  sat  there  for  a  long  time  discussing  the  new 


SIR  HENRY  CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN    167 

bishop  not  yet  decided  upon.  He  asked  if  I  had  any- 
one to  recommend,  and  said  that,  having  appointed 
two  evangelicals,  he  felt  at  liberty  to  choose  without 
regard  to  that,  but  he  does  not  like  sacerdotalism.  I 
do  not  think  any  of  us  do  in  its  extremes  ;  yet  if  men 
of  power  go  into  the  Church  it  is  a  great  temptation  to 
them  to  think  they  have  special  graces  granted  to 
their  office.  He  himself  is  broad — not  extreme  in  any- 
thing. 

" '  The  Scotch  Land  Bill  is  dead.  It  was  idiotic ; 
framed  by  Sinclair,  who  has  no  land  and  does  not  under- 
stand. I  wish  we  had  small  farms  ;  they  were  an 
incentive  to  labouring  men  to  save,  and  they  gave 
great  happiness  and  they  brought  up  good  servants ; 
but  as  the  old  buildings  fell  down  it  was  cheaper  to 
build  on  a  large  scale  and  so  they  had  to  go. 

"  '  I  have  an  under-gardener  with  £900,  and  my  bailiff 
with  £600,  both  wishing  for  small  farms  of  about  £80 
a  year,  but  they  are  difficult  to  find.  I  should  like 
Government  to  build  for  these  men,  and  for  them  to 
pay  interest  on  the  buildings,  and  we  landholders  have 
plenty  of  land  to  spare,  and  continuity  of  tenure 
would  be  no  hardship  to  us  if  they  did  not  take  bits  in 
the  middle  of  our  parks  or  gardens.  Anyhow  this 
would  bring  back  and  keep  there  good  men  such  as  we 
have  here — think  of  saving  £600  out  of  weekly  wages ! ' " 

Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman's  opinions  prob- 
ably resembled  those  of  the  majority  of  his  fellow- 
countrymen,  who  are  at  heart  very  Conservative,  and, 
individually,  have  no  dislike  at  all  for  what  used  to  be 
known  as  the  Upper  Class.  Nevertheless,  they  pride 
themselves  on  their  Radicalism. 

An  aged  woman  said  to  a  young  lady  visitor, 
daughter  of  a  great  landowner  :  "  It  is  just  one  year 
and  two  days  since  you  last  called."  The  poor  old 
thing,  in  her  cottage  in  the  hills,  had  been  waiting  for 
what  to  her  was  a  red-letter  day.  Yet  the  Scotch- 
people  are  in  expression  fiercely  Radical — all  theory. 


168  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

My  mother's  political  information  was  always  good, 
and  looking  through  the  piles  of  letters  which  she 
received  it  is  curious  to  observe  the  accuracy  of  the 
forecasts  of  elections  contained  in  a  number  of  them, 
some,  such  as  are  written  from  the  north  of  England 
in  1910,  "  the  divils  are  sure  to  get  in,  and  then  God 
help  us,"  are  quite  amusing  on  account  of  their 
energy. 

Writing  on  the  25th  August,  1909,  a  well-informed 
correspondent  of  hers  said  :  "  The  Budget  will  pass, 
I  believe,  whatever  the  Lords  may  say  or  do.  It  was 
stupid  of  our  side  to  push  the  Dukes  forward  so 
prominently." 

"  What  do  you  think,"  wrote  the  same  corre- 
spondent, who  had  been  in  the  thick  of  the  struggle  all 
along  and  fully  appreciated  its  extraordinary  features, 
"  of  the  '  Die-Hards  '  ?  I  can  scarcely  keep  my 
temper  with  them.  It  is  really  difficult  to  believe  that 
114  men  could  be  found  so  obstinately  to  dash  their 
heads  (and  our  heads  !)  against  a  stone  wall." 

On  February  15,  1910,  the  same  correspondent 
wrote : 

"  I  spent  four  hours  alone  with  a  member  of  the 
Cabinet  yesterday,  but  I  can't  say  that  I  discovered 
much  !  I  don't  think  there  is  much  to  discover — that 
is  to  say,  I  think  they  are  much  perplexed  themselves 
and  are  waiting  for  the  cat  (or  cats)  to  jump.  Only 
one  thing  I  can  authoritatively  tell  you,  not  one  single 
word  of  the  prophecies  in  the  papers  is  correct.  The 
secrets  of  the  Cabinet,  this  time,  have  been  kept 
absolutely.  This  you  may  depend  upon,  and  those 
who  tell  you  they  have  '  the  best  authority,  from  in- 
side, my  dear  !  '  mean  that  they  have  been  gossiping 
with  some  Junior  Lord  of  the  Treasury  or  Third  Whip, 
who  knows  no  more  than  you  or  I." 

Meanwhile  my  mother,  while  deeply  deploring  the 
coming  abasement  of  the  House  of  Lords,  accepted 
the  situation  with  philosophic  serenity. 


LADY  WARWICK  169 


u 


We  are  expecting  our  doom/'  she  wrote  to  a 
correspondent.  "  Down  with  old  peers  and  up  with 
new  ones.  We  await  our  fate  with  patience  and  resig- 
nation." 

My  mother,  though  in  total  disagreement  with 
Socialism,  watched  the  movement  with  a  certain 
degree  of  interest,  and  liked  to  hear  about  it  from 
such  of  her  friends  who  believed  in  this  new  short-cut 
to  universal  happiness. 

Lady  Warwick,  for  whom  she  had  a  great  regard, 
gave  her  an  interesting  description  of  an  Inter- 
national Congress  held  at  Amsterdam. 

Amstel  Hotel, 

Amsterdam. 

Tuesday,  August  16. 

Dearest  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  wonder  where  you  are,  and  what  is  interesting 
you  just  now  ?  I  am  having  a  wonderful  time  here, 
at  the  International  Congress  of  Socialists,  and  have 
learnt  very,  very  much.  You  would  have  been  struck 
with  the  dramatic  coup  of  the  opening  of  Congress  on 
Sunday.  A  Jap  moved  the  Resolution,  in  a  speech  of 
an  hour  in  fluent  and  perfect  English,  a  Russian 
seconded,  a  gem  of  oratory,  in  French,  then  10,000 
hands  were  held  up,  and  a  shout  to  blow  the  roof  off 
of  the  great  Concert  Hall  in  Amsterdam  went  up,  as 
Jap  and  Russian  gripped  hands,  for  a  moment,  in  the 
universal  Brotherhood  of  Man.  It  was  a  wonderful 
touch  on  a  human  stage  !  I  have  met  so  many  inter- 
esting people — Bebel,  of  course,  and  Jaures,  and  other 
Frenchmen,  and  Italians,  Russians,  besides  all  the 
English  Socialists  I  already  know.  Dining  with  Hynd- 
man  last  night,  he  told  me  of  a  conversation  he  once 
had  with  you,  and  of  an  observation  you  made,  in 
which' I  recognized  your  quick  wit,  and  appreciation 
of  realities  I  So,  with  you  in  my  thoughts,  I  take  up 
my  pen,  and  how  I  wish  you  had  been  here.    Right  or 


170  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

wrong,  it  is  the  one  religion  that  unites  the  human  race 
all  over  the  world,  in  the  Common  Cause  of  Humanity, 
and  it  is  very,  very  wonderful,  and  it  is  growing  as 
mushrooms  grow,  and  nothing  can  stem  the  tide.  I 
go  home  to-morrow.  Are  you  by  chance  free  on 
Saturday  (20th),  and  could  you  give  me  the  joy  of 
seeing  you  at  Easton  ?  or  a  Sunday  later  ?  before 
Sept.  3rd,  when  I  go  north  for  much  work. 

Ever  yours  affectionately, 

Daisy. 

Will  you  send  one  line  to  Easton  ? 

My  mother  did  not  take  Socialism  very  seriously  ; 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  amused  her  to  watch  these 
passing  political  vogues,  each  supposed  to  have  come 
to  stay.  She  had  seen  the  Victorian  Age  come  and 
go,  without  any  material  alterations  in  human  exist- 
ence, except  such  as  arose  from  mechanical  triumphs 
which  had   added  nothing   to   the  essential  joys  of 

life. 

The  aristocracy  had  been  stripped  of  its  privileges, 
the  franchise  extended,  and  numerous  measures  of 
social  legislation  passed.  Nevertheless,  the  world 
went  on  very  much  as  of  old  and  there  was  no  indica- 
tion that  the  Utopia  predicted  by  so  many  reformers 
would  ever  be  anything  but  a  magnificent  piece  of 
imposture. 

Meanwhile  she  continued,  notwithstanding  her  pro- 
fessed Toryism,  to  keep  an  open  mind  about  most 
things  except  political  perfection — she  had  seen  so 
many  reforms  of  which  great  things  were  hoped  result 
in  nothing,  that  she  was  more  or   less  sceptical  of 

all. 

She  knew  that  Providence  had  not  taken  its  measures 
so  ill  as  to  leave  it  to  Acts  of  Parliament  to  alter  the 
course  of  human  existence,  and  that  in  spite  of  idealists 
and  pessimists,  the  world  ever  remains  much  the  same, 
and  neither  better  nor  worse. 


MODERN  POLITICIANS  171 

She  refused  to  believe  in  extravagant  schemes  for 
popular  education,  the  infallibility  of  Democracy,  or 
Government  by  Gabble. 

She  was  quite  uncompromising  about  expressing 
her  views  as  to  the  degeneration  of  English  politics, 
and  though  a  staunch  Unionist,  in  her  later  years 
rather  stood  outside  both  parties  with  a  pail  of  cold 
water. 

The  Unionists  she  was  inclined  to  laugh  at  as  poor 
creatures  animated  by  that  spirit  of  blind  and  almost 
silent  resignation  which  has  never  yet  saved  any- 
one. 

A  notable  exception,  however,  she  would  cheerfully 
admit,  was  Lord  Halsbury,  a  friend  of  hers  for  whom 
she  had  the  greatest  admiration.  He  at  least  was  not 
permeated  with  that  parochial  idealism  which  had 
become  such  a  feature  of  English  politics  before  the 
War. 

Mr.  Austen  Chamberlain  she  also  admired. 

As  for  the  rest  of  the  Unionists  after  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain's death  she  used  to  declare  that  the  best  of  them 
seemed  to  her  less  intelligent  and  less  virile  than  their 
predecessors  of  a  vanished  generation. 

In  the  leaders  of  both  political  parties  indeed  she 
entirely  failed  to  discern  any  trace  of  that  independence 
and  courage  which  had  gained  for  men  like  Palmerston 
the  whole-hearted  confidence  of  their  fellow-country- 
men. 

In  her  last  years  she  would  often  deplore  that  there 
seemed  to  be  so  few  young  men  who  gave  promise  of 
brilliant  futures.  She  was  always  looking  for  talent. 
I  remember  how  delighted  she  was  with  Mr.  Arthur 
Peel,  the  son  of  the  Speaker,  for  whom  she  had  a 
great  admiration. 

She  made  great  friends  with  him,  and  he  once 
pleased  her  very  much  with  a  graceful  invitation 
to  dinner,  which  in  its  way  was  quite  a  tour  de 
force. 


172  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Gridiron  Club,  Oxford. 
March  26th,  1892. 
On  Thursday  next,  at  8.15  exact, 
You  dine  with  me — so  runs  our  sweet  compact. 
As  to  the  dress,  come  garnished  with  a  bonnet, 
And  since  you  do  possess  a  gorgeous  cloak,  pray  don  it. 
But  if  it  hide,  it  can't  improve  yourself, 
It  shall  be  laid,  like  statesmen  on  the  shelf. 
Have  you  fears  ?  Nay,  my  fears  must  be  confest, 
How  can  I  play  the  host  to  such  a  guest  ? 
Oh  come  !    Resume  your  ancient  role  again. 
I  shall  be  guest  and  you  shall  entertain. 

(Sgd.)  A.  G.  V.  Peel. 

Though  she  had  been  an  intimate  friend  of  Cobden, 
of  Lowe,  and  other  great  Liberals,  she  took  a  much 
sterner  view  of  the  modern  Radicals. 

Mr.  McKenna,  however,  she  thought  clever  and 
liked.  She  also  had  a  great  respect  for  the  intellect  of 
Lord  Haldane,  whom  she  had  known  for  a  good  many 
years.  His  clever  sister,  Miss  Elizabeth  Haldane, 
was  a  great  friend  of  hers. 

Writing  to  the  latter  about  the  time  of  Lord 
Haldane's  translation  to  the  Upper  House,  she  said  : 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  will  be  there,  for  I  have 
promised  to  go  to  a  meeting  where  your  brother  will 
be  in  the  chair  on  Friday.  Mr.  Gosse  gave  me  a  ticket, 
but  I  have  begged  him  to  get  me  a  seat  near  the 
Speaker's,  not  with  the  lower  friends  of  the  people. 

"  I  like  to  be  aristocratic  while  it  lasts — and  I  hope  the 
humble  may  manage  to  be  exalted  on  this  occasion. 

"  I  was  so  grieved  not  to  see  your  brother  in  purple 
and  fine  linen  take  his  seat." 

She  admired  Mr.  John  Burns,  and  struck  up  quite  a 
friendship  with  him  ;  but  many  of  the  other  chief  lights 
of  the  Radical  party  she  thought  merely  impertinent 
adventurers,  and  would  not  tolerate  their  airs  for  a 
moment. 

"  Remember,  I  don't  like  rude  young  men,"  uttered 
in  a  decided  voice  before  a  large  house-party,  was  her 


MODERN  POLITICIANS  173 

remark  to  a  Tory  renegade  and  pillar  of  the  Radical 
party  who,  affecting  a  somewhat  patronising  air, 
had  come  up  to  sit  by  her. 

At  one  time  she  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  Lord  Morley, 
and  for  years  carried  on  a  correspondence  with  him. 

She  always  lamented  that  he  had  more  or  less 
abandoned  literature  for  politics,  saying  with  consider- 
able justice  that  fine  writers  seldom  make  good 
politicians. 

"  That  fatal  drollery  called  a  Representative  Govern- 
ment "  aroused  in  her  little  but  contempt,  and  she  had 
the  very  lowest  opinion  of  the  modern  House  of 
Commons,  in  a  great  measure  composed  of  dangerous 
nonentities,  glib  at  spouting  fluent  and  emotional  non- 
sense, while  secretly  contemptuous  of  everything, 
their  personal  interests  only  excepted. 

In  her  last  years  my  mother  became  quite  seriously 
alarmed  at  the  proceedings  of  the  Radical  Government, 
which  she  declared,  with  all  the  fervour  of  a  convinced 
Tory  of  the  old  school,  would  ruin  the  country. 

She  deplored  the  hide-bound  stupidity  of  the  elec- 
torate, and  its  aptitude  to  vote  for  a  policy  which  very 
often  was  diametrically  opposed  to  its  own  real  ideas. 

It  was  practically  impossible,  she  would  maintain, 
for  a  hard-working  labourer  or  artisan  to  master  the 
complications  of  modern  politics — the  result  being 
that  candidates  skilled  in  the  art  of  bamboozling  had 
a  better  chance  than  scrupulous  and  thoughtful 
men. 

This  eagerness  of  the  proletariat  to  be  led  by  the 
nose  was  best  exemplified  in  the  case  of  the  Jew 
foreigner,  "  Tripitsch  Lincoln,"  a  protege  of  the  Radical 
party,  who,  though  scarcely  able  to  speak  English, 
was  triumphantly  elected  an  M.P.,  and  like  some  other 
Members  of  alien  origin  indulged  in  attacks  on  old 
English  institutions  such  as  the  House  of  Lords. 

One  of  the  worst  results  of  the  whole  power  of  the 
State  having  fallen  into  the  hands  of  none  too 
scrupulous  politicians  is  the  increase  of  almost  un- 


174  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

disguised  bribery.  The  shameless  bestowal  of  titles  on 
nouveaux  riches  and  wealthy  aliens  (large  contributors 
to  party  funds),  the  needless  multiplication  of  salaried 
appointments,  sully  public  life  just  as  much  as  did  the 
worst  abuses  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Associations  of  Mayfair — Charles  Street  and  Berkeley  Square — 
Great  ladies  of  Victorian  days — Their  social  power — Lady  Chesterfield 
— Her  daughter,  Lady  Carnarvon — A  unique  succession  of  friend- 
ships— Lady  Bathurst — Bernal  Osborne — Lady  Waldegrave  at  Straw- 
berry Hill — Lady  Cork — The  late  Lord  Clanricarde — His  eccentricities 
and  ways — Anecdotes^ — Lady  Cardigan  and  her  Memoirs — Anecdotes — 
The  sins  of  society. 

MY  mother's  personal  association  with  Mayfair 
may  be  said  to  have  been  profound.  To  her 
the  streets  were  full  of  shades,  and  it  was 
wonderful  how,  in  conversation,  she  could  reanimate 
them  with  the  forms  of  the  vanished  great. 

Of  Charles  Street  where  she  lived  she  was  especially 
fond,  and  a  proposal  to  rename  it  "  Lytton  Street  " 
aroused  her  ire.  Though  well  over  eighty  at  the  time, 
she  at  once  set  about  making  an  active  canvass  of  her 
neighbours,  and  only  ceased  to  agitate  when  the  noxious 
proposal  was  definitely  abandoned. 

Her  indignation  at  this  attempt  to  rechristen 
Charles  Street  after  the  author  of  the  Last  Days  of 
Pompeii  (whom  she  had  known)  was,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  fully  justified,  for  he  had  only  lived  there  a  very 
short  time. 

They  might  just  as  well  have  proposed  to  call  it 
"  Brummel  Street,"  the  dandy  in  question  having 
lived  at  No.  42  for  some  time  about  the  year 
1792  ! 

It  may  be  added  that  the  house  next  door,  "  No. 
41,"  has  been  in  the  possession  of  the  same  family 
for  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

Berkeley  Square  is  remarkable  for  two  things — 
being  the  darkest  Square  in  London  and  its  splendid 

175 


176  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

plane  trees  which  here  attain  quite  unusual  vigour  and 
beauty. 

Alone  among  trees  the  plane  seems  able  to  defy  the 
London  atmosphere,  renewing  its  annual  youth  by 
casting  its  mud-begrimed  bark.  Elms,  limes,  and  still 
less  laurels  do  not  flourish  within  the  realms  of  London 
smoke. 

In  former  days  a  number  of  quaint  or  striking 
characters  were  to  be  seen  about  Mayfair. 

Lord  Bessborough,  who  lived  in  Charles  Street, 
used  to  be  highly  amusing  about  an  old  nobleman 
whose  mind  seemed  continually  to  reproduce  the 
same  ideas  and  the  same  remarks.  Wherever  and 
whenever  he  met  him,  the  same  question  was  always 
asked.  "  By  the  way,  my  Lord,  where  do  you  live  in 
London  ?  "  "I  live  at  Charles  Street,  Berkeley 
Square."  "  Oh,  in  Charles  Street,  Berkeley  Square. 
Should  you  say  at  any  particular  number  in  Charles 
Street,  Berkeley  Square  ?  "  "  No  ;  at  no  particular 
number,"  was  the  answer,  with  which  the  old  noble- 
man departed,  seemingly  quite  satisfied. 

It  was  always  a  pleasure  for  my  mother  to  retrace 
the  milestones  of  her  pleasant  life,  and  she  would  re- 
call with  pride  the  days  when  the  old  aristocracy 
"  we,"  as  she  always  called  them,  did  really  rule 
England. 

Looking  back  through  the  great  scrap-book  of  her 
memory  she  would  vividly  recall  vanished  customs  and 
ways  and  (for  the  most  part  whimsically)  complain  of 
the  encroachments  of  triumphant  Democracy. 

Though  she  had  always  liked  clever  people  quite 
irrespective  of  their  social  position  certain  modern 
tendencies  aroused  her  contempt  and  disgust — she 
deplored  the  disappearance  of  the  grand  manner  and 
ceremonious  ways  which  had  been  the  characteristics 
of  the  vanished  past,  while  the  new  and  garish  aris- 
tocracy of  wealth  fond  of  blazoning  forth  evidences  of 
its  riches  seemed  to  her  a  highly  unhealthy  symptom. 

London  Society  (she  declared),  which  in  her  youth 


LADIES  OF  VICTORIAN  DAYS  177 

had  been  very  much  akin  to  a  large  family  party,  had 
degenerated  into  a  mob  mostly  composed  of  persons 
whose  only  claim  to  social  consideration  consisted  in 
money-bags. 

On  the  other  hand,  she  would  frankly  confess  that 
some  of  the  old-world  aristocracy  had  been  absurdly 
overbearing. 

She  could  recall  how  Lady  Londonderry  used  to 
hold  a  sort  of  Court  at  Holdernesse  House,  where  she 
was  wont  to  receive  her  guests  sitting  on  a  dais  under 
a  canopy.  This  great  lady,  not  absolutely  perfect 
though  perfectly  absolute,  would  seem  to  have  taken 
little  notice  of  her  guests  as  a  rule  and  was  noted  for 
her  great  hauteur.  She  was,  however,  not  insensible 
to  merit.  She  did  all  she  could  to  help  and  push  on 
Disraeli,  in  which  endeavour  she  joined  with  Lady 
Jersey,  who  never  failed  to  exercise  her  influence  in 
favour  of  the  rising  politician  who  was  then  not 
particularly  favoured  by  society  in  general. 

The  social  power  wielded  by  great  ladies,  such  as  the 
two  mentioned  above,  seems  almost  inconceivable 
to-day,  their  easy  leisured  arrogance  was  taken  more 
or  less  as  a  matter  of  course  and  they  would  have 
been  very  much  astonished  had  it  aroused  any  criticism ; 
small  wonder,  when  they  were  brought  up  to  think 
they  were  the  very  salt  of  the  earth.  One  was  so 
frigidly  condescending  at  her  parties  that  people  used 

to  say,  "  Are  you  going  to  see  Lady  insult  her 

guests  to-night  ?  " 

This  lady  was  no  solitary  exception — quite  a  number 
of  social  figures — men  as  well  as  women — were  imbued 
with  a  sort  of  unconscious  hauteur  which  amounted 
almost  to  a  religion. 

In  the  minds  of  such  as  these  the  English  aristocracy 
stood  quite  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  Newly 
ennobled  families,  however,  were  not  included — being 
merely  classed  a  little  above  the  Tom,  Dick,  and 
Harry  rabble,  for  which  the  real  aristocrats  entertained 
a  great,  if  good-natured,  contempt. 

12 


178  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Some  of  the  old  school  carried  the  exclusive  attitude 
to  absurd  lengths.  It  used  to  be  said  of  one  individual 
that  he  made  it  a  rule  to  decline  to  be  introduced  to 
people  he  didn't  know  ! 

The  "  grandes  dames,"  who  at  one  time  more  or 
less  ruled  society,  have  now  disappeared ;  their  influ- 
ence in  spite  of  a  certain  haughtiness  was  on  the  whole 
beneficial. 

A  notable  example  was  Lady  Chesterfield,  who  not 
only  was  but  looked  a  great  lady  of  the  old  school,  and 
to  the  end  of  her  life  retained  the  erect  figure  and  elastic 
gait  for  which  she  was  distinguished.  She  had  had 
a  unique  experience  in  the  way  of  proposals,  having 
rejected  two  Prime  Ministers. 

As  Miss  Anne  Forester  Mr.  Stanley,  afterwards  the 
fourteenth  Earl  of  Derby,  had  proposed  to  her.  How- 
ever, she  married  Lord  Chesterfield  instead,  and  after 
his  death  in  1866  it  is  said  that  Mr.  Disraeli,  not  once 
only  but  several  times,  laid  his  heart  at  her  feet.  Lady 
Chesterfield,  my  mother  declared,  was  only  prevented 
from  accepting  Mr.  Disraeli  by  the  strong  objections 
of  her  daughter,  Lady  Carnarvon. 

Though  Lady  Chesterfield  would  not  marry  Disraeli 
she  always  had  a  great  admiration  for  his  cleverness 
and  when  many  years  later  he  caused  Queen  Victoria 
to  be  proclaimed  Empress  of  India  she  wrote  to  my 
mother  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Mr.  D.'s  coup  d'Uat,  is  it 
not  grand,  even  The  Times  allowed  it.  I  think  the 
Queen  must  be  fond  of  him." 

In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  my  mother  said  : 

"  Lady  Chesterfield  was  indeed  a  high-born  lady  of 
the  old  school — so  aristocratic  and  always  so  kind  to 
me.  She  knew  a  great  deal  about  Art,  pictures,  etc. — 
and  well  she  might,  as  Bret  by  was  a  treasure-house  of 
all  that  was  beautiful. 

"  Her  last  years  were  very  sorrowful,  losing  her 


LADY  CHESTERFIELD  179 

husband,  then  her  son — a  most  interesting  young 
man — and  then,  lastly,  her  only  daughter,  to  whom 
she  was  so  fondly  devoted.  I  have  often  been  alone 
with  Lady  Chesterfield  at  Bretby,  and  there  I  saw  all 
the  sadness  of  her  lonely  life.  Often  she  would  go 
with  me  into  the  little  church  where  these  dear  ones 
are  buried  and  there  she  would  play  the  organ  to 
relieve  her  mind  of  all  her  sorrows. 

"  I  was  accustomed  to  go  with  her.  I  felt  for  all  the 
dear  ones  she  had  lost,  for  all  of  them  had  been  for  30 
long  years  my  best  and  dearest  of  friends." 

Lady  Carnarvon,  Lady  Chesterfield's  daughter,  pos- 
sessed a  great  faculty  for  collecting  together  people 
of  conspicuous  talent.  Frequent  guests  at  Highclere 
were  Sir  Stafford  and  Lady  Northcote,  Dean  Stanley, 
Lord  Derby,  Sir  Alexander  Cockburn,  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  and  many  other  clever  people — the  country-house 
parties  over  which  she  presided  were  permeated  by  an 
intellectual  and  social  charm  which  was  largely  due  to 
the  personality  of  the  hostess. 

A  striking  instance  of  the  continuity  of  my  mother's 
friendships  was  her  affection  for  Lady  Chesterfield,  for 
her  daughter,  Lady  Carnarvon,  and,  finally,  for  her 
granddaughter,  Lady  Burghclere,  all  three  of  whom 
she  loved  and  admired — Lady  Chesterfield  much,  Lady 
Carnarvon  more,  and  Lady  Burghclere  most  of  all. 

"  What  a  dear  Winifred  is  "  (wrote  she  to  a  friend 
shortly  before  her  death).  "  I  did  so  love  her  grand- 
mother— then  I  had  the  deepest  affection  for  her 
delightful  mother  and  now  I  love  her  so." 

Such  a  succession  of  friendships  with  three  genera- 
tions of  one  single  family  must  surely  have  been  almost 
unique. 

My  mother  always  took  great  interest  in  all  children 
or  grandchildren  of  the  clever  people  she  had  known 
in  former  days,  witness,  for  instance,  her  regard  and 
admiration  for  Lady  Bathurst,  the  clever  and  able 
daughter  of  her  old  friend,  Lord  Glenesk. 


180  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Another  instance  was  her  deep  affection  for  the 
Duchess  of  St.  Albans,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Bernal 
Osborne,  who  was  such  a  prominent  social  figure  and 
rather  wayward  politician  half  a  century  ago. 

A  witty  conversationalist  with  whom  few  dared 
to  enter  into  verbal  conflict,  like  many  great  talkers, 
he  was  apt  to  use  his  undoubted  mental  gifts  much 
as  a  spendthrift  throws  away  cash,  bestowing  it 
equally  upon  objects  worthy  and  unworthy. 

At  the  same  time  B.  O.,  as  he  used  to  be  called, 
could  hit  very  hard  when  he  chose — a  few  of  his 
sallies  have  survived. 

"  No  lynx,"  once  said  he,  "  is  so  sharp  as  a  thrown- 
over  admirer  and  no  tigress  so  sanguinary  as  a  flirt 
beaten  at  her  own  game." 

Ruthlessly  outspoken  at  times,  Bernal  Osborne  was 
especially  deft  in  making  use  of  banter.  He  was  fond 
of  selecting  a  butt  and  not  infrequently  made  enemies 
through  letting  his  tongue  run  away  with  him.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  was  capable  of  being  softened 
by  anyone  to  whom  he  took  a  fancy. 

My  mother  once  wrote  to  a  friend  from  Canford : 

"  Lady  Salisbury  and  her  girls  so  agreeable  and 
unaffected.  They  so  won  B.  O.'s  heart  that  he  told 
me  if  he  had  to  speak  at  Worcester  he  would  not  say 
a  word  against  Lord  S.,  whom  he  had  meant  to  pitch 
into." 

Not  unnaturally  many  of  the  bitter  things  which 
he  carelessly  fired  off  lost  none  of  their  sting  when 
mischief-making  people  repeated  them. 

Writing  to  my  mother  at  a  time  when  some  of  his 
remarks  had  evidently  annoyed  her,  he  said  : 

"  I  perceive  the  '  small  fry  '  of  Eaton  Place  have 
been  pouring  '  venomous  distilments  '  into  your  ear 
regarding  my  unfortunate  tongue !  I  have  never 
knowingly  said  anything  ill-natured  of  you  !  Tor  ! 
[Lord  Torrington]  or  Lady  M.  !  [Lady  Moles  worth.] 


BERNAL  OSBORNE  181 

The  two  latter  have  been  very  touchy  and  seem  to  have 
inoculated  you  !  " 

She  was,  however,  never  angry  with  him  for  long, 
but  she  understood  that  he  needed  being  kept  in  check 
and  let  him  know  it. 

No  tiffs,  indeed,  ever  seriously  disturbed  this  friend- 
ship. He  came  often  to  Charles  Street  and  to  Dangstein, 
and  in  after  years  my  mother  would  recall  with 
pleasure  the  many  pleasant  hours  she  had  spent  in  his 
company. 

Long  before  it  was  supposed  to  be  a  proper  thing 
for  ladies  to  go  to  music-halls,  Bernal  Osborne  took 
a  party,  one  of  whom  was  my  mother,  to  Evans's, 
where  he  introduced  his  guests  to  the  celebrated 
Paddy  Green.  The  latter  told  her  that  he  possessed 
Horace  Walpole's  silver  Opera  Ticket1  and  would 
leave  it  to  her  when  he  died.  He  forgot  to  do  so,  but 
years  later  she  was  very  pleased  at  being  able  to 
acquire  it.  She  always  declared  that  the  proceedings 
at  Evans's  had  seemed  to  her  most  decorous — indeed, 
in  spite  of  the  horror  with  which  the  old-fashioned 
music-hall  inspired  the  austere,  it  was  never  the 
dissipated  resort  it  is  supposed  to  have  been. 

Writing  to  Bernal  Osborne  in  May,  1865,  and 
speaking  of  free  trade  in  public  amusements,  Charles 
Dickens,  after  admitting  that  he  believed  the  con- 
version of  music-halls  into  theatres  would  do  a  great 
deal  of  good,  added  that  "  the  sure  consequence  of 
a  great  success  of  a  theatrical  kind  on  the  part  of  one 
of  these  would  be  the  want  of  more  room  in  front  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  audience  ;  and  the  sure 
tendency  of  that  would  be  the  removal  of  the  tables 
on  which  the  eatables  and  drinkables  are  set,  and  the 
substitution  of  more  seats.  Why  the  eating  and 
drinking,  however,  should  be  supposed  to  be  so  objec- 
tionable," added  he,   "I  cannot  imagine.     In  these 

1  This  now  belongs  to  the  writer.     See  p.  78. 


182  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

places  at  present  there  is  the  most  rigid  enforcement 
of  order  without  any  distinction  of  class.  I  am 
always  looking  about  and  I  have  never  seen  drunken- 
ness in  a  music-hall." 

In  the  House  of  Commons  Bernal  Osborne  was 
always  more  or  less  a  political  freelance,  which  caused 
him  to  be  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  even  to  the  statesmen 
whom  he  was  by  way  of  supporting.  The  lapse  of 
years,  however,  made  him  more  tolerant,  and  in  the 
latter  period  of  his  life  he  would  declare  that  he  had 
come  to  spy  good  qualities  in  every  one — even  in 
bishops. 

The  disappearance  of  the  generation  of  Palmerston, 
Delane,  Hayward,  and  Bernal  Osborne  left  a  great 
social  void  in  London  society,  for  there  were  no 
successors  who  could  exactly  take  their  places. 
When  Bernal  Osborne  died  Lady  Airlie  wrote  to  my 
mother  : 

Palermo. 

January  10th,  '82. 
Dearest  Dorothy, 

Thank  you  for  writing  to  me  and  telling  about 
poor  B.  O.  How  terribly  sad  that  journey  sounds  and 
the  fainting  on  the  way — one  is  thankful  the  pain  is 
over.  He  was  very  brave,  never  showed  his  suffering, 
was  plucky  and  bright  to  the  last.  The  Duchess1  will 
feel  her  father's  loss  dreadfully.  He  loved  her  so 
much,  but  I  am  not  sure  if  he  did  not  love  her  mother 
much  the  best — and  poor  Jim  Macdonald,  another 
and  earlier  friend  of  mine,  died  the  same  day.  I  see 
no  young  ones  coming  on  to  replace  these  pleasant 
men  of  the  world ;  there  was  something  more  worthy 
in  these  men  than  that  which  came  first  before  the 
eyes  of  the  world.  In  Jim  Macdonald  there  was  the 
best  heart  that  ever  breathed,  and  he  was  the  most 
thorough    gentleman.     Bernal    Osborne    was   a  phil- 

1  The  Duchess  of  St.  Albans. 


BERNAL  OSBORNE  183 

osopher    and    had    great    talents    which,    somehow, 
missed  the  mark. 

You  will  feel  his  loss,  he  was  so  true  a  friend  of 
yours.  To  me  he  was  always  very  charming,  we  were 
friends  of  quite  a  late  date ;  but  I  felt  always  in  great 
sympathy  with  him,  and  liked  him  best  when  he  was 
least  witty — there  were  so  many  things  to  talk  to  him 
about  besides  society.  Poor  daughters ! !  I  am  sorry 
for  both  with  all  my  heart.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that 
Meresia  is  to  have  the  great  pleasure  of  seeing  Rome, 
and  with  her  Aunt  who  is  so  established  there,  it  will 
be  delightful.  My  girls  will  like  to  see  her  when  we  go 
back.  This  place  is  beautiful  beyond  words.  Do  you 
know  it  ?  The  flowers  are  so  lovely — and  will  get  more 
so  every  day.  My  girls  like  travelling,  and  enjoy 
seeing  everything ;  it  is  a  great  comfort  it  should  be 
so — and  at  each  new  place  they  think  they  would 
like  to  settle.  I  am  better  than  I  was — and  my  heart 
is  much  less  troublesome  in  this  warm  climate.  Can 
you  tell  me  how  Ld.  Sherborne  is  ?  Lord  Sherbrooke 
you  give  but  a  poor  account  of.  He  gets,  I  fear,  more 
lonely  every  year — and  society  is  so  good  for  him. 
I  am  glad  you  see  Blanche  often.  I  am  sure  she  misses 
us  very  much,  and  her  dear  Father  and  all  the  break- 
up of  the  happy  home  is  not  often  long  out  of  her 
mind.  The  worst  of  being  abroad  when  one  is  unhappy 
is  the  idleness ;  but  we  are  learning  Italian  and  have 
plenty  of  books. 

Good-bye,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  when  I  go 
back  to  England.  Alas  !  Cortachy  is  now  a  thing 
of  the  past,  but  in  London  we  shall  always  be 
neighbours. 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

Blanche  Airlie. 


Another  friend  of  my  mother's  for  whom  she  had 
the  greatest  fondness  was  Lady  Somers,  widow 
of  the  third   Earl  Somers.     She  lived  on  Hay  Hill, 


184  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

where  my  mother  used  frequently  to  go  and  see 
her. 

Lady  Somers  was  the  mother  of  Adeline,  Duchess  of 
Bedford,  and  of  Lady  Henry  Somerset,  for  both  of 
whom  my  mother  had  a  great  regard. 

Up  to  the  middle  of  the  last  century  "  birth " 
from  a  social  point  of  view  counted  for  everything, 
but  in  the  sixties  the  spirit  of  ultra  exclusiveness 
began  to  be  relaxed. 

Frances,  Lady  Waldegrave,  who  was  a  friend  of 
my  mother's,  was  a  conspicuous  instance,  for  she 
attained  the  social  position  she  occupied  by  sheer 
determination  and  character. 

This  lady  was  the  daughter  of  old  Braham,  the 
singer,  and  at  a  period  when  the  stage  was  not  in  high 
social  favour,  rather  boasted  of  her  origin.  Often  she 
would  say,  jokingly,  when  present  at  a  party  at  which 
any  curious  or  unknown  people  were  amongst  the 
guests,  "  I  am  sure  everyone  will  say  they  are  some  of 
my  vulgar  relatives."  As  my  mother  remarked  it  was 
strange  that  in  days  when  society  was  still  aristocratic 
and  exclusive,  Lady  Waldegrave  and  Lady  Moles- 
worth,  both  with  no  pretensions  to  good  birth,  should 
have  been  rivals  in  leading  it. 

The  latter  at  one  time,  indeed,  was  noted  for  giving 
the  most  fashionable  dinner  parties  in  London  and 
was  a  real  social  power. 

My  mother  used  often  to  go  to  Strawberry  Hill 
when  Lady  Waldegrave  ruled  there,  and  though  she 
deplored  the  alterations  made  in  her  ancestors'  home, 
always  declared  that  the  parties  were  most  pleasant. 
It  was  here  that  Winterhalter  painted  a  group  of 
several  ladies  celebrated  in  London  Society  of  that 
day,  which,  besides  the  chatelaine  of  Horace  Wal- 
pole's  old  home,  included  Lady  Clanricarde,  the 
mother  of  a  large  family,  two  of  whom,  Lady  Cork  and 
Lady  Margaret  Beaumont,  were  my  mother's  friends. 
Lady  Clanricarde  my  mother  described  as  "  most 
amiable  but  such  a  man's  mind  and  intellect." 


LADY  CORK  185 

1  She  frightened  me  dreadfully  at  first,"  said  she. 

No  one  probably  knew  more  about  the  inner  social 
history  of  her  time  than  Lady  Cork,  a  very  clever 
woman,  who  long  after  she  had  ceased  to  be  able  to 
leave  her  couch,  owing  to  her  numerous  visitors,  kept 
herself  excellently  posted  as  to  everything  of  interest 
which  was  on  foot. 

At  the  time  of  the  Druce  case,  being  a  confirmed 
invalid,  her  evidence,  which  would  have  completely 
put  any  claimant  out  of  Court,  was  taken  on  com- 
mission. 

She  stoutly  denied  to  me  that  the  Duke  of  Portland 
constructed  the  wonderful  underground  riding-school 
at  Welbeck  from  any  desire  to  hide  himself ;  he 
wished,  said  she,  to  improve  the  property,  and  as  he 
hated  cutting  down  trees,  thought  that  this  was  the 
best  way  of  doing  it. 

At  the  end  of  her  life  my  mother,  who  lived  almost 
next  door,  never  failed  to  go  and  see  Lady  Cork  three 
or  four  times  a  week.  She  always  spoke  in  high  terms 
of  admiration  of  the  latter's  intellectual  vivacity  and 
bitterly  lamented  that  that  clever  lady  had  never 
written  any  memoirs. 

Lady  Cork's  brother,  the  late  Lord  Clanricarde,  my 
mother  often  met  at  Christie's,  of  which  he,  like  her- 
self, was  a  regular  frequenter. 

She  considered  him  one  of  the  most  interesting 
of  the  habitues  and  always  enjoyed  his  conversation, 
which  was  generally  instructive  and  often  amusing. 
He  was  also  a  good  deal  of  an  art  expert. 

She  had  known  the  eccentric  nobleman  ever  since 
his  youth  and  would  often  speak  of  the  great  contrast 
there  had  been  between  him  and  his  dashing  brother 
Lord  Dunkellin,  with  whom  as  a  girl  she  had  so  often 
danced. 

Lord  Dunkellin  was  a  typical  viveur  of  the  best 
sort,  immensely  popular  with  rich  and  poor,  especially 
in  Ireland,  where  even  to-day  memories  of  him  still 
linger. 


186  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

He  was  also  not  unsuccessful  as  a  politician.  In 
June,  1866,  the  Liberal  Government  resigned  owing  to 
being  defeated  on  an  Amendment  moved  by  him. 
A  noted  bon-vivant  his  end  was  undoubtedly  hastened 
by  his  disinclination  to  subject  himself  to  the  stern 
regime  which  very  possibly  might  have  mitigated  the 
terrible  attacks  of  gout  to  which  he  was  prone — 
Bright's  disease,  indeed,  eventually  killed  him  in  1867. 
A  greater  contrast  than  his  brother  and  successor, 
the  late  Lord  Clanricarde,  could  not  be  imagined. 
Even  as  a  young  man  the  latter  perhaps,  because  he 
had  been  given  a  very  small  allowance,  was  noted 
for  his  extreme  economy,  and  the  alteration  in  his 
worldly  prospects  in  no  way  changed  certain  idiosyn- 
crasies which  as  the  years  crept  on  obtained  almost 
entire  domination  over  him. 

Lord  Clanricarde's  youth  had  not  been  a  happy  one. 
According  to  his  own  account  he  passed  a  wretched 
boyhood  at  Harrow,  and  as  a  young  man  he  was 
completely  overshadowed  by  his  popular  and  hand- 
some brother.  In  1852,  with  a  small  allowance,  he 
became  attache  to  Sir  John  Hudson  at  Turin.  Here 
it  was  said,  in  order  to  save  expense,  he  arranged  with 
the  custodian  of  an  arch  to  let  him  sleep  in  the  small 
chamber  where  the  latter  kept  his  pails  and  brooms  ; 
another  rumour  declared  that  he  was  more  or  less  his 
own  tailor.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  taste  for  doing 
repairs  or  having  them  done  by  his  servant  was  very 
evident  in  his  old  age  when  his  coat  and  even  his  hat 
were  often  held  together  by  rough  stitching.  He 
never,  no  matter  how  bad  the  weather,  took  a  cab — 
he  never  lost  and  never  forgot  an  umbrella. 

In  his  last  years,  indeed,  the  dilapidated  condition 
of  his  apparel  became  more  and  more  evident.  My 
own  opinion  is  that  this  arose  partly  from  a  feeling 
that  he  could  do  exactly  as  he  pleased,  for  he  was 
quick  enough  in  resenting  slatternliness  hp  others, 
having  on  more  than  one  occasion  been  heard  to  com- 
plain "  how  careless  about  dress  people  had  become." 


LORD  CLANRICARDE  187 

When  he  died  his  servant  had  been  with  him 
twenty-three  years  and  his  charwoman  over  thirty 
years. 

Though  his  tie  was  usually  secured  round  his  neck 
by  a  piece  of  old  tape,  he  seldom  failed  to  wear  a 
family  jewel  of  great  value  in  it.  A  favourite  scarf-pin 
of  his  was  a  large  diamond  ;  at  the  back  of  this  he 
was  fond  of  inserting  a  piece  of  coloured  paper  (as 
was  discovered  after  his  death)  painted  by  himself 
with  the  aid  of  a  child's  colour-box.  By  this  means 
he  obtained  varied  effects  which  shows  that,  in  spite 
of  his  careless  habits,  there  survived  in  him  a  certain 
coquetry. 

In  his  own  peculiar  way  he  was  a  "  worshipper  of 
the  beautiful,"  being  on  occasion  not  averse  to  spend- 
ing quite  large  sums  of  money  in  buying  works  of  art, 
notably  on  turquoise-blue  Sevres  china,  of  which  he 
was  a  great  connoisseur.  He  could  never,  however, 
resist  a  good  deal,  and  had  no  scruples  in  admitting 
his  fondness  for  bartering  and  selling.  Of  Dutch 
pictures  he  was  an  acknowledged  judge,  and  he  was 
also  well  acquainted  with  the  English  eighteenth- 
century  school,  besides  being  able  at  a  moment's 
notice  to  say  in  what  houses  most  of  the  great  por- 
traits of  that  period  hung.  He  also  knew  a  great  deal 
about  classical  medals,  indeed  there  were  few  branches 
of  collecting,  except  prints,  French  eighteenth-century 
pictures,  and  furniture,  in  which  he  was  not  more  or 
less  of  an  expert.  He  often  carried  some  small  piece 
of  china  or  snuff-box  in  his  pocket,  and  when  in  a 
good  temper  would  pull  them  out  and  explain  their 
merits  or  defects  excellently  well. 

He  could  also  be  very  interesting  about  vanished 
social  figures  of  his  middle  age  and  youth,  and  being 
very  observant  and  gifted  with  a  retentive  memory, 
was  a  terrible  adversary  when  confronted  with  people 
who  talked  wildly  of  what  had  happened  thirty  or 
forty  years  ago.  He  said  the  only  good  woman  he 
ever  knew  was  Lady  Canning — and  he  was  very  proud 


188  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

of  his  relationship  to  Lord  Canning.  He  lived  sur- 
rounded by  Canning  and  not  Clanricarde  things.  His 
accuracy  and  remembrance  of  detail  were  quite 
wonderful ;  on  the  other  hand  he  had  little  imagination 
or  breadth  of  vision.  An  omnivorous  reader,  he  was 
prone  to  attach  overmuch  interest  to  detail,  and  was 
more  interested  in  sidelights  upon  the  lives  of  historical 
personages  than  in  the  great  events  in  which  they  had 
taken  part.  The  French  Revolution,  for  instance,  did 
not  appeal  to  him  at  all;  "an  unpleasant  affair,"  he 
told  me,  "  which  I  don't  want  to  read  about."  He  took 
very  much  the  same  line  about  the  Great  War,  and 
when  people  mentioned  it  before  him  would  at  once 
change  the  subject.  He  liked  nothing  as  a  matter  of 
fact  which  interfered  (or  seemed  likely  to  interfere) 
with  his  own  habits.  Royal  processions,  weddings, 
and  the  like  which  filled  the  streets  with  crowds  he 
abominated  and  they  invariably  drove  him  to  Hamp- 
stead  Heath. 

His  conversation,  while  never  pedantic,  was  not 
wanting  in  a  certain  dry  humour.  His  utterances  were 
always  very  much  to  the  point.  At  his  Club  he  would 
occasionally  enter  into  conversation  with  people  whom 
he  found  near  him;  if  however  any  acquaintance 
attempted  to  introduce  a  friend  by  name  Lord  Clanri- 
carde would  at  once  shuffle  off,  for  when  he  chose  he 
never  scrupled  about  openly  ignoring  the  ordinary 
conventions  of  social  life. 

On  one  occasion,  when  an  acquaintance  led  up  a 
very  popular  member  with  the  words,  "  Let  me  intro- 
duce   Sir   "    the    eccentric    Marquis    exclaiming, 

"  Certainly  not,  I  don't  want  to  know  him,"  vanished 
with  all  the  celerity  of  a  will-o'-the-wisp. 

Though  he  could  hardly  be  called  sociable,  he  was 
by  no  means  a  recluse,  much  of  his  time  being  spent 
in  walking  about  London. 

When  ice  rinks  were  in  vogue  some  twelve  or  fifteen 
years  ago,  Lord  Clanricarde  was  one  of  their  assiduous 
frequenters.     It  was  his  habit  to  bring  with  him  an 


LORD  CLANRICARDE  189 

extra  pair  of  boots  with  skates  attached,  and  also  a 
bag  of  buns. 

On  one  occasion  while  the  Marquis  was  cutting 
circles,  at  which  he  was  quite  clever,  a  wag  wickedly 
filled  the  toes  of  his  walking  boots  with  buns,  with  the 
result  that  at  changing  time  there  was  a  scene  which 
convulsed  everybody  who  was  in  the  secret. 

Lord  Clanricarde  was  a  great  and  rather  disquieting 
user  of  clubs.  Though  in  his  own  rooms  he  allowed  him- 
self but  one  scuttle  of  coal  a  week,  he  was  always 
grumbling  at  the  "  poor  fires."  He  tried  to  ride 
roughshod  over  rules  which  did  not  please  him, 
smoking  a  shocking  old  pipe,  against  regulations,  and 
having  weird  and  inexpensive  meals  in  rooms  where 
food  was  not  allowed.  A  great  student  of  prices, 
no  one  better  than  he  knew  how  to  get  the  most  for 
his  money.  It  is  said  that  having  at  one  of  his  clubs 
discussed  an  obsolete  rule  by  which  slices  of  ham  were 
included  in  the  table  money,  he  set  to  work  with  such 
determination  that  the  too  liberal  ordinance  had  to  be 
hastily  abrogated. 

The  term  table  money,  indeed,  he  ever  interpreted  in 
its  most  comprehensive  sense,  insisting  upon  being 
given  any  species  of  pickle  and  the  like — as  a  Club 
steward,  apropos  of  the  number  of  bottles  upon  the 
Marquis's  table,  once  said,  "  His  Lordship  liked  pro- 
fusion." 

A  votary  of  tobacco  he  was  probably  the  most 
eccentric  smoker  who  ever  lived — a  cigar,  he  said, 
was  never  at  its  best  till  the  third  time  of  smoking. 
In  old  age  it  was  his  practice  to  cut  off  the  end  when 
about  an  inch  had  gone  and  put  the  remains  away, 
the  second  time  of  smoking  he  would  cut  off  another 
inch,  using  the  stump  as  a  bonne  bouchc  for  special 
occasions.  As  a  younger  man,  however,  he  would 
seem  to  have  been  something  of  a  real  connoisseur, 
for  after  his  death  a  certain  number  of  very  fine 
cigars  were  found  in  his  rooms,  for  some  of  which  as 
a  record  showed  he  had  paid  as  much  as  3s.  6d.  a 


190  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

piece  in  1885,  and  as  late  as  19 10  he  paid  £y  a  100  for 
cigars  !  Possibly  the  large  prices  which  he  at  one 
period  of  his  life  paid  for  cigars  may  have  originated 
the  habit  of  making  one  cigar  serve  for  three  distinct 
occasions. 

It  was  lying  among  a  drawerful  of  these  cigar 
stumps  that  he  showed  me  in  the  Albany  the  famous 
Cinque  Cento  jewel,  said  to  be  worth  some  £12,000, 
which  Canning  had  brought  from  the  Mogul's  treasury 
at  Delhi.  The  rooms  in  question  presented  an  extra- 
ordinary appearance.  The  owner  grudging  rods  and 
not  being  allowed  to  put  nails  into  the  walls,  a  number 
of  valuable  pictures  were  stacked  on  the  floor,  while 
several  thousand  pounds'  worth  of  Sevres  china  was 
displayed  in  a  rough  sort  of  cabinet  which  the 
Marquis  himself  had  knocked  up  out  of  old  packing- 
cases.  When  he  moved  to  Hanover  Square  he  kept 
his  Sevres  in  his  kitchen,  only  6d.  a  day  was  allowed 
for  coals,  and  the  woman  in  charge,  who  had  been 
with  him  for  thirty  years,  had  strict  instructions  to 
limit  her  culinary  efforts  to  things  which  did  not 
necessitate  a  big  fire. 

The  greatest  gastronomic  extravagance  in  which  the 
owner  himself  indulged  when  at  home  was  a  couple 
of  boiled  eggs,  as  to  the  size  of  which  he  was  very 
particular.  He  kept  an  old  hard-boiled  egg  to  show 
his  servant  the  minimum  size  for  eggs. 

In  spite  of  a  passion  for  economy  almost  bordering 
upon  mania  Lord  Clanricarde  could  be  fairly  generous 
at  times.  On  occasion  he  was  known  to  make  quite 
handsome  presents.  He  once  showed  me  two  costing 
from  fifteen  to  twenty  pounds  apiece  which  he  was 
going  to  give  to  relatives  on  their  marriage.  He  once 
sent  a  mutual  friend  fourteen  brace  of  grouse,  was 
good-natured  about  distributing  passes  for  the  Burling- 
ton Fine  Arts  Club  (which  it  is  true,  as  a  member,  cost 
him  nothing),  and  some  years  ago  actually  took 
someone  for  a  day's  trip  to  the  country,  insisting  upon 
paying  all  expenses  ! 


LORD  CLANRICARDE  191 

He  was,  I  believe,  never  known  to  invite  anyone  to 
dinner  at  his  clubs.  On  one  occasion,  however,  it  is 
said,  he  did  ask  a  relative  to  lunch.  Long  research  had 
convinced  the  Marquis  that  a  picture  in  the  former's 
collection  was  not  by  the  master  to  whom  it  had 
always  been  ascribed,  and  the  announcement  of  the 
discovery  seemed  worth  an  unextravagant  lunch. 

If  he  did  not  entertain  he  sought  no  entertainment 
from  others ;  indeed,  I  believe  he  would  have  resented 
any  invitations  had  they  ever  been  proffered.  Though 
economical  to  an  extraordinary  degree,  he  would 
accept  favours  from  no  man. 

On  one  occasion,  I  do  not  know  why,  I  asked  the 
Marquis  to  have  a  drink. 

"  I  don't  want  a  drink,  and  if  I  want  a  drink  I  can 
pay  for  it,"  was  his  reply.  "  Allow  me  to  say,"  added 
he,  "  that  I  am  surprised  at  your  indulging  in  such 
a  low,  vulgar  habit." 

The  invitation  was  never  repeated. 

Though  he  incurred  great  odium  as  an  absentee 
landlord,  he  was  far  from  deserving  much  of  the  blame 
showered  upon  him.  His  rents,  notwithstanding  all 
statements  to  the  contrary,  were  not  high,  but  being 
a  determined  character  he  insisted  upon  having  them. 
In  some  cases,  however,  he  was  strangely  lenient.  After 
his  death  it  was  even  discovered  that  owing  to  rent 
having  been  forgone  for  a  great  number  of  years, 
certain  tenants  had  become  absolute  owners  of  the 
ground  they  had  leased. 

His  unpopularity  as  a  landlord  was  largely  caused 
by  his  refusal  to  be  cajoled,  bullied,  or  terrorized  into 
giving  way.  In  addition  to  this,  a  habit  of  not  making 
contributions  to  local  charities  and  the  like  produced 
much  hostility. 

In  his  youth,  Lord  Clanricarde  had  been  by  no 
means  insensible  to  the  charms  of  the  fair  sex,  and  as 
an  old  man,  when  in  a  good  humour,  he  could  be  very 
amusing  concerning  some  of  the  "  famous  lights  of 
love  "  of  the  Second  Empire.    He  was  an  expert  as  to 


192  LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 

the  inner  history  of  many  long-forgotten  scandals, 
not  intolerant  and,  as  was  his  nature,  always  scrupu- 
lously just. 

He  had  known  many  famous  beauties  whom  he  had 
seen  wither  and  grow  old,  well  remembering,  for  in- 
stance, the  youthful  escapades  of  Lady  Cardigan, 
"  one  of  the  girls,"  as  I  once  heard  him  say,  "  who 
tried  to  catch  me." 

He  thought  she  had  been  hardly  treated  by  the 
Society  of  her  youthful  days,  the  ideas  of  which  she 
outraged  by  being  ahead  of  her  time  and  claiming  an 
independence  of  convention  which  to-day  has  become 
fairly  common. 

One  of  the  greatest  social  changes  is  the  enormous 
latitude  now  allowed  to  young  ladies  who  do  what 
they  like  and  go  where  they  like  according  to  their 
own  sweet  will. 

My  mother  would  often  describe  the  very  different 
state  of  affairs  which  prevailed  in  her  youth. 

A  rigid  code  of  etiquette  then  governed  the  move- 
ments of  young  ladies  ;  for  instance,  they  were  not 
supposed  to  go  in  cabs  alone  or  walk  about  the  West 
End  without  a  male  escort  or  a  footman.  There  was 
more  reason  in  this  than  appears  at  first  sight  for  the 
vanished  bucks  whose  gay  old  ghosts  perchance  still 
haunt  Piccadilly  had  very  roving  eyes. 

A  young  lady  riding  without  a  groom  in  Hyde 
Park  now  scarcely  arouses  comment,  but  in  those 
days  such  a  proceeding  constituted  a  grave  social 
offence. 

It  was,  however,  not  so  much  the  absence  of  a 
groom  as  the  constant  presence  at  her  side  of  Lord 
Cardigan,  then  still  a  married  man,  which  caused  the 
world  to  look  askance  at  young  Miss  de  Horsey,  as 
the  future  Lady  Cardigan  was  then. 

Lord  Cardigan,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  a  man 
of  dashing  reputation,  whose  striking  appearance 
always  attracted  a  good  deal  of  notice. 

Following  a  fashion  of  his  day,  which  caused  retired 


LORD  CARDIGAN  193 

officers  to  don  a  sort  of  semi-military  costume, 
he  generally  wore  white  gloves  and  sported  golden 
spurs  on  his  heels.  He  invariably  carried  a  riding 
switch  in  his  hand — to  be  used  either  on  the  back  of  his 
horse,  or  on  the  back  of  any  person  who  might  be 
unlucky  enough  to  provoke  the  noble  earl's  resent- 
ment. Though  picturesque  enough  to  hear  about, 
such  habits  were  apt  to  render  him  very  unpleasant  to 
his  own  generation. 

Lord  Cardigan  had  a  fondness  for  duelling  and  in 
1841  "  killed  his  man."  In  due  course  he  was  tried,  but 
got  off  owing  to  a  legal  flaw.  He  was  indicted  for 
feloniously  shooting  one  Harvey  Garnett  Phipps 
Tuckett.  At  the  trial  it  was  only  proved  that  the 
Earl  had  shot  Harvey  Tuckett,  and  the  Court  deciding 
that  the  indictment  had  not  been  proved,  his  Lordship 
was  discharged.  This,  of  course,  was  a  glaring  instance 
of  an  abuse  by  which  a  number  of  culprits  in  old  days 
got  off  scot  free. 

Encouraged  no  doubt  by  his  good  luck,  Lord 
Cardigan  was  only  too  ready  to  fight  anybody  at  any 
time.  One  outraged  husband,  however,  rather  baffled 
him  by  saying,  after  he  had  been  offered  satisfaction, 
"  You  have  already  given  me  ample  satisfaction  in 
taking  my  wife." 

My  mother  well  remembered  the  marriage  of  this 
beau  sabreur  to  Miss  de  Horsey,  then  a  young  lady,  who, 
owing  to  the  unconventional  behaviour  which  has 
already  been  touched  upon,  was  never  in  Society  in 
the  proper  sense  of  the  term. 

Her  pre-nuptial  flirtation  with  Lord  Cardigan  caused 
most  people  to  be  shy  of  her — as  a  matter  of  fact, 
according  to  the  recollection  of  those  remembering  the 
circumstances,  the  young  lady  was  treated  with  little 
leniency. 

The  greatest  snub  received  by  Lord  Cardigan  and 
his  bride  was  when  they  issued  invitations  to  the 
county  for  a  great  ball  at  Deene  Park  and  nobody 
came. 
13 


194  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

After  Lord  Cardigan's  death,  as  the  years  wore  on, 
the  hostess  of  Deene  became  a  sort  of  historical  figure 
and  all  her  peccadilloes  were  condoned. 

Even  when  a  very  old  woman  Lady  Cardigan  re- 
mained a  coquette  of  a  very  enterprising  kind,  and 
on  occasion  was  quite  ready  to  attempt  to  sing  and 
dance. 

I  saw  her  at  Deene  Park  in  1905,  and  though  she  was 
eighty  she  exhibited  the  greatest  vivacity.  Her 
appearance,  which  might  have  been  described  as  old 
age  masquerading  as  youth  (she  was  dressed  in  white 
like  a  bride),  produced  a  strangely  theatrical  effect. 
There  was,  however,  no  pretence  about  the  real 
interest  she  took  in  life.  She  might  have  been  a  rather 
clever,  but  frivolous  young  woman. 

She  had  no  sympathy  with  the  cant  which  has 
somehow  managed  to  envelop  modern  England,  her 
fault  was  that  she  was  inclined  to  go  too  much  the 
other  way.  The  "  fear  of  thy  neighbour,"  which  in 
Anglo-Saxon  countries  is  so  generally  accounted  the 
beginning  of  wisdom,  made  no  appeal  to  her  ! 

When  the  chatelaine  of  Deene  gave  her  recollections 
to  the  world  in  1909,  my  mother,  as  a  survivor  of  the 
period  dealt  with,  received  quite  a  number  of  entreaties 
to  refute  certain  scandalous  statements. 

This  the  latter,  though  she  had  a  soft  corner  in  her 
heart  for  Lady  Cardigan,  was  quite  ready  and  able 
to  do. 

Writing  to  Lady  Airlie  in  she  said,  "  No  one 

but  Lords  in  London  and  the  Budget  quite  overlooked 
in  this  horrid  book  of  Lady  Cardigan's. 

"She  only  attacks  the  poor  dead  who  have  no  one 
to  protect  them. 

"At  present  she  leaves  us  alone.  What  people  are 
afraid  of  is  that  when  the  election  comes  these  Radical 
demons  will  cut  pieces  out  just  to  show  what  the 
upper  classes  are." 

She  was  especially  indignant  at  the  libel  upon  her 
old    friend,    Maria    Marchioness    of    Ailesbury,    that 


LADY  CARDIGAN  195 

stupendous  figure  of  the  last  century  whose  aquiline 
and  commanding  profile,  corkscrew  ringlets,  many 
coloured  toilettes,  and  miraculous  head-dresses  will 
never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  saw  her.  Lady 
Cardigan  hinted  that  this  poor  lady  had  had  an 
illegitimate  family,  but,  as  someone  maliciously  re- 
marked, possibly  the  authoress  of  the  imputation  had 
got  confused  owing  to  similar  incidents  nearer  home. 

Prince  Soltykoff  certainly  never  wanted  to  marry 
Lady  C,  all  he  did  want  to  do,  according  to  his  friends 
was  to  get  out  of  her  way. 

The  story  as  to  Lord  Beaconsfield  having  tried  to 
marry  her  was  also  in  all  probability  a  fabrication  ; 
his  political  career  (which  to  him  was  life  itself)  would 
almost  certainly  have  been  ruined  had  he  done  so.  At 
the  same  time  he  was  undoubtedly  once  supposed  to 
have  been  engaged  to  her  ;  but  she  probably  spread 
the  rumour  herself. 

The  cruel  story  about  Lord  Ward,  the  late  Lord 
Dudley,  was  a  slanderous  invention  calculated  to 
cause  pain,  and  this  my  mother  did  her  best  to  refute, 
while  administering  a  good  snub  to  Lady  Cardigan  in 
one  of  her  volumes  of  Memoirs. 

I  do  not,  however,  believe  that  Lady  Cardigan  was 
in  the  least  perturbed  by  any  hostile  comments  upon 
her  book  which  she  almost  admitted  was  written  in  a 
frankly  mischievous  spirit.  Sometime  however  after 
her  Recollections  had  appeared  the  chatelaine  of 
Deene  is  said  to  have  been  much  perturbed  by  a 
letter  written  by  one  of  King  Edward's  secretaries, 
expressing  that  Monarch's  regret  at  certain  statements 
made  in  her  book  and  suggesting  certain  very  necessary 
alterations  in  any  future  edition.  Lady  Cardigan, 
though  she  pretended  not  to  be  affected  by  any 
criticism,  took  this  rebuke  seriously  to  heart — accord- 
ing to  one  account  it  hastened  her  end. 

The  general  tone  of  Mid- Victorian  Society  was  out- 
wardly at  least  most  austere,  while  ultra-realism  in  the 
'-.heatre  was  unknown. 


196  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Writing  to  Lady  Wolseley  in  1900,  my  mother  said  : 

"  I  saw  Zaza  last  night.  I  think  I  never  saw  any- 
thing so  realistic — too  dreadful  in  a  natural  history 
sense  but  yet  interesting  ;  but  what  are  we  coming 
to  .  .  .  where  shall  we  end  ?  " 

In  the  same  letter  referring  to  a  newspaper  para- 
graph she  wrote  : 

"  The  papers  announce  that  a  certain  lot  of  Society 
ladies  are  going  to  undertake  the  '  ballet '  at  the 
'  Theatre  des  Varieties.' 

"  We  are  indeed  getting  on." 

When,  however,  the  cry  of  the  Sins  of  Society  had 
a  certain  vogue  and  people  deplored  twentieth-century 
levity,  she  would  declare  that  in  the  matter  of  kicking 
over  the  traces  the  general  mass  of  well-to-do  folk 
were  probably  no  worse  or  no  better  than  their  prede- 
cessors. 

In  connection  with  the  past  it  should  be  noted 
that  at  one  period,  in  the  age  of  flounces,  whiskers, 
and  crinolines,  such  was  the  character  of  most  of  the 
cases  brought  before  Sir  C.  Cresswell  that  he  declared 
that  his  Court  ought  to  be  called  the  Reprobate  and 
Divorce  Court,  instead  of  its  usual  appellation. 

Though  my  mother  very  much  disapproved  of  the 
authoress  having  raked  up  such  a  number  of  old  half- 
forgotten  scandals,  most  of  which  no  doubt  were  based 
upon  a  very  flimsy  foundation  of  truth,  she  herself 
nevertheless  always  frankly  admitted  that  mid- 
Victorian  Society  had  contained  several  coteries  in- 
clined towards  a  somewhat  spacious  morality. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Literary  friends — Venables — Lord  Houghton — Frederick  Locker — 
An  original  poem — -Mr.  Justin  McCarthy — Some  modern  writers — Mr. 
Stead  and  spiritualism — Sir  Harry  Johnson — Stanley — Alfred  Austin — 
Anecdote — Artistic  friends — Whistler — Miss  Kate  Greenaway — Letters 
— Sir  Henry  Thompson — Letters — Miss  Maxwell  (Miss  Braddon) — 
Letters — Mr.  Edmund  Gosse — Madame  Duclaux — Letters — Blanche 
Countess  of  Airlie. 

IT  has  been  said  that  literary  people  like  those 
whom  their  works  amuse  as  travellers  like  those 
whom  they  astonish. 

Possibly  this  is  why  my  mother,  an  omnivorous 
reader,  got  on  so  well  with  the  many  men  of  letters 
she  knew  during  her  long  life. 

Her  recollections  of  Dickens,  Thackeray,  and  Lever 
have  already  been  printed.  George  Venables,  who  as  a 
boy  had  disfigured  Thackeray's  nose  in  a  fight,  had 
also  been  a  friend  of  hers.  The  reputed  '  Stunning 
Warrington ' '  of  Pendennis,  he  was  a  first-class  classic 
of  the  famous  year  of  Lushington  and  Thompson,  and 
combined  a  successful  parliamentary  practice  with 
brilliant  journalism.  He  was  one  of  the  pillars  of  the 
Saturday  Review  in  its  great  days,  but  his  remarkable 
literary  powers  never  received  proper  recognition 
mainly  owing  to  his  own  tendency  towards  self- 
effacement. 

Lord  Houghton  (Monckton  Milnes)  she  had  known 
very  well.  He  once  insisted  on  her  posing  as  "  Comedy" 
in  some  tableaux,  after  Sir  Joshua's  famous  picture  at 
Petworth,  in  which  he  himself  impersonated  Garrick 
— the  only  time  I  fancy  upon  which  she  appeared  upon 
any  stage.  Though  in  his  last  years  Lord  Houghton 
realised  the  ambition  he  is  said  to  have  expressed  of 

197 


198  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

being   "  asked  everywhere  and  going  nowhere,"  his 
death,  in  1885,  was  much  lamented. 

The  tribute  paid  to  him  by  another  distinguished 
literary  man,  Mr.  William  Archer — deserves  quoting  : 

Adieu,  dear  Yorkshire  Milnes  !  we  think  not  now 

Of  coronet  or  laurel  on  thy  brow  ; 

The  kindest,  faithfullest  of  friends  wert  thou. 

A  number  of  celebrities  came  at  one  time  or  another 
to  Charles  Street.  Froude  lunched  there  often,  as  did 
Matthew  Arnold. 

Matthew  Arnold  was  an  attractive  conversation- 
alist, as  well  as  a  charming  poet — and  while  witty 
and  amiable,  completely  devoid  of  pedantry,  which 
made  young  people  worship  him.  My  mother  de- 
lighted in  his  essays,  but  scarcely  appreciated  his 
verse — as  a  matter  of  fact  she  was  not  particularly 
fond  of  his  poetry.  For  this  reason  perhaps  Tennyson, 
whom  she  knew  and  liked,  appealed  to  her  more  as 
a  striking  personality  than  as  a  poet. 

Among  contemporary  poets  Swinburne  and  her 
friend  Mr.  Frederick  Locker  were  her  favourites. 
She  especially  appreciated  the  latter's  "  London 
Lyrics." 

/'  Rotten  Row  "  particularly  appealed  to  her,  for 
she  had  many  pleasant  memories  of  the  Park  in  old 
days. 

But  where  is  now  the  courtly  troop 

That  once  rode  laughing  by  ? 
I  miss  the  curls  of  Cantilupe, 

The  laugh  of  Lady  Di. 

Well  remembering  both,  she  put  a  mark  against 
this  stanza  in  the  copy  given  her  by  the  author  with 
the  dedication  : 

The  Muse  I  woo'd  was  Fair  and  True 
And  all  her  charms  I  find  in  you. 

F.  L. 


LITERARY  FRIENDS  199 

Another  graceful  tribute  paid  to  her  by  Mr.  Locker 
was  the  following  little  poem  which  has  never  been 
published  : 

FOR  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

When  Lady  Dorothy  ordains 

We  nib  our  quills  and  rack  our  brains  ; 

We  dot  our  i's  and  cross  our  t's 

When  that  fair  lady  so  decrees. 

But  should  her  little  hand  we  squeeze 

She'd  bid  us  mind  our  q's  and  p's  ; 

In  simple  fact,  it  seems  to  me, 

We  all  are  slaves  to  Lady  D. 

The  lawyer  frames  his  ablest  plea 

To  gain  a  cause  for  Lady  D. 

The  Doctors  never  take  their  fees 

Who  feel  Iter  pulse — hers  !   Lady  D. 

I'm  told  that  Wolseley,  G.C.B., 

Is  rather  sweet  on  Lady  D.  ; 

And  Alcester  swears  a  great  big  D 

He'll  always  love  his  Dorothy. 

And  here's  a  poet  on  his  knee 

And  here's  his  rhyme  to  Dorothy. 

F.  Lockek. 


A  constant  visitor  at  Charles  Street  was  Mr.  Mallock, 
who,  as  a  young  man,  created  a  considerable  sensation 
with  his  clever  book,  The  New  Republic.  Of  this  volume 
Lord  Beaconsfield  said,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  my 
mother  : 

"It  is  a  capital  performance  and  the  writer  will, 
I  think,  take  an  eminent  position  in  our  future 
literature." 

Lord  Morley  at  one  time  often  came  to  see  her  and 
they  occasionally  corresponded. 

The  late  Mr.  Justin  McCarthy,  for  whom  my  mother 
had  a  particular  affection,  and  his  daughter  were 
frequent  guests.  Years  later,  in  old  age,  when 
the  clever  Irishman  had  retired  to  Westgate  he 
wrote  : 


200  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

ashleydene, 

Roxburgh  Road, 

Westgate-on-Sea. 

November  29. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  was  delighted  to  get  your  letter  this  morning 
and  to  see  again  the  familiar  handwriting. 

I  am  only  sorry  that  I  cannot  reply  in  my  own 
hand,  but  my  eyes  are  not  yet  well  enough  to  allow 
me  to  write  more  than  a  bare  signature. 

There  is  something  very  touching — as  you  say — in 
the  thought  of  all  those  dear  bright  and  gifted  ones, 
who  used  to  gather  at  your  house  and  of  whom  so 
many  are  gone. 

I  often  think  of  those  happy  days  when  your 
delightful  home  was  always  open  to  me,  and  where 
I  spent  hours  and  met  friends  not  to  be  forgotten  in 
this  life. 

I  am  so  glad  to  hear  that  you  read  my  book  and 
were  pleased  with  it,  for  I  owe  you  much  happiness. 

Charlotte  joins  in  affectionate  regards  to  you  and 
to  Miss  Nevill. 

Ever  your  friend, 

Justin  McCarthy. 

Among  modern  novelists  my  mother  had  a  great 
admiration  for  Mr.  George  Moore. 

"  Certainly  one  of  the  best  writers  we  have,"  she 
wrote  to  a  friend. 

Occasionally  he  came  to  see  her,  and  she  delighted 
in  his  visits. 

Sir  Henry  Lucy,  whose  cleverness  and  humour  she 
greatly  appreciated,  was  another  visitor  to  Charles 
Street. 

Sir  F.  Carruthers  Gould,  though  his  gift  of  caricature 
was  employed  against  her  own  political  party,  was  a 
frequent  guest. 


LITERARY  FRIENDS  201 

Among  journalists  she  welcomed  Lord  Northcliffe, 
for  whom  she  had  an  especial  affection,  Mr.  W.  L. 
Courtney,  Mr.  Spender,  and  Mr.  Massingham  whose 
Radical  and  peculiar  views  left  her  quite  un- 
ruffled. 

Mr.  Austin  Harrison,  her  old  friend's  son,  was  also  an 
occasional  visitor. 

Another  striking  proof  of  my  mother's  catholicity 
of  taste  was  her  appreciation  of  the  late  Mr.  Stead, 
who  on  almost  every  subject  held  views  diametrically 
opposed  to  her  own.  His  spiritualistic  beliefs,  however, 
were  rather  too  much  for  her,  for  she  never  had  any 
leanings  towards  the  occult,  though  she  had  known 
and  admired  Mr.  Frederick  Myers. 

It  was  after  all  only  right  that  one  who  had  been 
the  friend  of  Darwin  and  Huxley  should  have  a  deep 
distrust  of  so-called  psychic  manifestations. 

Huxley  in  particular,  a  considerable  portion  of 
whose  energies  was  devoted  to  clearing  away  super- 
stition, would  surely  be  appalled  at  the  importance 
which  some  quite  responsible  people  now  appear  to 
attach  to  spiritualistic  tricks  which  have  time  after 
time  been  exposed. 

The  credulity  of  the  present  day  apparently  exceeds 
that  of  the  past.  Education — learning,  even  scien- 
tific knowledge,  seem  powerless  to  exorcise  the  evil 
spirit  which  claims  to  soothe  mankind  with  fatuous 
and  often  illiterate  communications  from  another 
world. 

A  guest  whom  my  mother  was  always  glad  to  see 
at  her  luncheon  table  was  Sir  Harry  Johnston  who 
possesses  such  an  unrivalled  knowledge  of  the  African 
black. 

His  experiences  interested  her  greatly.  She  used  to 
declare  that  however  wild  the  country  he  might  be 
in  he  always  dressed  for  dinner  and  drank  his  coffee 
out  of  a  silver  coffee-pot  afterwards — the  idea  being 
to  keep  up  the  white  man's  prestige. 

Stanley  and  his  wife,  who  had  been  Miss  Dorothy 


202  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Tennant,  occasionally  came  to  lunch.    For  the  latter 
my  mother  had  a  great  admiration  and  regard. 

Writing  to  a  friend  at  the  time  of  Miss  Tennant's 
marriage  to  the  great  explorer  she  said  : 

"  Miss  Dolly  is  in  Elysium.  They  are  to  be  married 
in  Westminster  Abbey  in  July,  and  she  hopes  to 
domesticate  him.  I  feel  sure  she  is  too  good  for  him, 
but  as  she  has  had  time  to  reflect  it  must  be  all 
right." 

The  late  Poet  Laureate — Mr.  Alfred  Austin — was 
very  much  liked  by  my  mother,  she  appreciated  his 
gifts  as  a  conversationalist. 

For  years  Mr.  Austin  was  a  tower  of  strength  to 
the  Standard  to  which  he  contributed  many  excellent 
leading  articles. 

He  wrote  admirable  prose — witness  his  charming 
book  The  Garden  that  I  Love. 

Though  his  prose  was  admittedly  admirable  opinions 
differed  as  to  his  poetic  merits. 

A  great  light  of  the  Bar,  for  instance,  meeting  the 
Poet  Laureate  for  the  first  time,  in  the  course  of 
conversation  said,  "  Mr.  Austin,  may  I  ask  do  you 
find  writing  poetry  pays  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  I  do  pretty  well,"  was  the  reply. 
"  I  always  manage  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door." 

"  And  pray  do  you  read  your  poems  to  the 
wolf  ?  " 

For  Sir  Sydney  Lee  my  mother  had  a  great  regard, 
taking  the  warmest  interest  in  the  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography  with  which  his  name  will  always 
be  associated,  and  no  one  better  than  she  appreciated 
what  a  great  national  service  he  had  performed. 

Among  the  younger  generation  of  literary  men  no 
one,  I  think,  made  such  an  impression  upon  her  as 
Mr.  Charles  Whibley.  When  she  was  at  her  cottage 
at  Haslemere  she  delighted  in  going  round  to  his 
house  and  having  a  chat  with  him — a  great  bond  of 
sympathy  between  the  two  was  the  interest  they  both 


WHISTLER  203 

took  in  Disraeli,  of  whom  Mr.  Whibley  wrote  such  an 
admirable  study  in  his  Pageantry  of  Life. 

Other  modern  writers  who  came  to  Charles  Street 
were  Sir  Rider  Haggard,  Mr.  Arthur  Morrison  (with 
whom  she  carried  on  a  correspondence),  Mr.  Richard 
Whiteing,  Mr.  Robert  Hichens,  and  many  others. 

A  great  friend  was  the  late  Mrs.  Craigie — John 
Oliver  Hobbes — a  woman  of  quite  unusual  mental 
attainments  and  charm  so  unfortunately  cut  off  in 
her  prime. 

Though  modern  pictures  made  no  particular  appeal 
to  her  my  mother  knew  many  Victorian  painters,  a 
number  of  whom,  particularly  Sir  Edward  Poynter 
and  Mr.  Frank  Dicksee,  she  liked  for  their  agreeable 
social  qualities. 

"  What  a  nice  man  he  seems '  (wrote  she  of  the 
late  Sir  Edward  Burne- Jones),  "  and  I  am  to  go  and 
see  his  studio — what  a  happy  man  he  must  be  living 
in  art  and  for  art." 

Sir  Philip,  the  great  painter's  son,  was  also  a  welcome 
visitor  at  Charles  Street. 

For  Whistler,  whom  she  knew  well,  my  mother  had 
the  greatest  admiration  and  liking. 

He  fully  appreciated  her  originality  and  wit.  She 
would  appear  to  have  taken  his  side  in  some  squabble 
or  dispute,  for  inscribed  upon  one  of  his  little  brown 
paper-bound  brochures,  Mr.  Whistler's  "  Ten  O'clock," 
I  find  the  dedication  : 

To  Lady  Dorothy,  the  loyal ! 

In  a  letter  inserted  at  the  end  he  signs  himself — 
"  I  am,  you  know,  your  devoted  slave." 

My  mother  much  admired  the  art  of  Miss  Kate 
Greenaway,  realizing  that  the  latter  had  created  a 
special  school  of  her  own,  notable  for  its  extreme 
daintiness  of  conception.  This  clever  artist  Often 
came  to  Charles  Street.  Very  often  my  mother  would 
take  her  to  a  matinee  or  other,  the  poor  lady  needed 


204  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

distraction  to  be  taken  out  of  herself  for  she  worked 
very  hard  at  her  pictures  of  dainty  little  girls  and  boys. 

Miss  Greenaway  thoroughly  appreciated  those  efforts 
to  enliven  her  and  wrote  frequently  to  my  mother 
after  painting  a  little  water-colour  sketch  at  the  top 
of  her  letter. 

Writing  in  April,  1896,  Miss  Greenaway  said : 

39  Frognal, 

Hampstead,  N.W. 

April  20,  1896. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  return  you  the  Princess  Maud's  letter.  I  was 
much  interested  and  it  was  so  kind  of  you  to  send  it 
to  me.  I  am  so  glad  she  likes  it.  It  is  a  very  nice 
letter,  isn't  it  ?    As  if  she  were  very  nice. 

I  see  Petworth  on  the  top  of  your  letter.  Have 
you  been  at  that  lovely  spot  ?  It  must  be  nice  to  have 
always  such  a  collection  of  lovely  things  to  look  at. 
I  saw  Petworth  on  such  a  beautiful  day  that,  it  lives 
in  my  mind  always  as  it  looked  then.  We  drove  over 
from  Witley  and  it  was  at  a  very  flowery  time,  and  I 
liked  the  long  drive  so  much  as  I  always  do.  We  had 
lunch  at  a  nice  bright  little  inn  there,  I  remember, 
that  made  me  think  of  Charles  Dickens. 

Long  days  of  driving  through  pretty  country  on  a 
summer's  day  I  think  the  perfection  oi  bliss. 

The  last  two  warm  days  have  made  it  very  summery 
here,  more  so  I  daresay  than  it  is  in  the  country. 

But  how  it  changes  about  from  hot  to  cold.  I  wish 
it  would  really  settle  into  warm  weather  and  let  us 
begin  summer  as  the  trees  are  getting  so  nice  and 
green. 

I'm  still  toiling  on  at  next  year's  almanack — I  say 
toiling,  simply  because  I  want  to  be  getting  on  with 
other  things,  as  it  is  important  I  should  now  if  I  am 
going  to  have  any  exhibition  at  all.  We  shall  have 
all  the  summer  pictures  on  now  to  look  at. 


A-f  C^-^Ar^y)       I  ^   \    ^ 


*  ... 


IK  II  EK    I  ROM    Miss    K  A  I  I     UREENAWAY 


MISS  KATE  GREENAWAY  205 

Good-bye,  dear  Lady  Dorothy,  and  thank  you  very 
much  for  letting  me  see  the  letter. 
My  love  to  you. 

Your  affectionate, 

(Sgd.)  Kate  Greenaway. 

Miss  Greenaway  was  always  rather  pessimistic  about 
her  work — she  was  inclined  to  think  that  it  was  little 
appreciated  by  the  public — certainly  she  never 
obtained  proper  recognition  as  having  originated  a 
distinct  style. 

Writing  in  1900  she  said  : 

39  Frognal, 

Hampstead,  N.W. 

December  28,  1900. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  felt  your  letter  very  kind,  it  is  so  nice  of 
you  to  think  of  buying  one  of  my  drawings,  but  in 
the  first  place  I  should  not  like  to  choose  one  for  I 
should  not  know  what  you  would  like  best,  and  then 
I  like  to  give  you  anything  you  like — drawings  are 
the  only  things  I  have  to  give  to  my  friends,  and  I 
feel  it  too  much  you  should  buy  them,  all  the  same 
I  feel  your  thought  of  it  so  kind — you  are  always 
kind. 

I  can't  say  the  public  rush  to  buy  my  work  now. 
I  don't  believe  they  will  sell  one  at  the  Fine  Art.  It 
seems  to  me  I  shall  have  to  keep  to  my  idea  of  doing 
Portraits  if  I  wish  to  make  money,  and  if  you  hear 
of  anyone  wanting  children's  Portraits  done,  I  should 
be  glad  if  you  would  say  I  was  now  going  to  do 
them. 

I  hope  when  you  come  back  that  you  will  let  me 
come  and  see  you  if  you  can't  come  and  see  me.  I 
may  go  to  Rowfant  for  a  few  days  soon.  I  am  so 
grieved  Lady  Jeune  is  not  well,  I  do  hope  she  will 


206  LADY  DOROTHY  NEV1LL 

soon  be  better.     Dear  Lady  Dorothy,  I  do  feel  you 
so  kind  and  I  send  you  much  love. 

Your  affectionate 

(Sgd.)  K.  Greenaway. 

I  could  not  make  out  the  name  of  the  House,  so 
send  it  to  45. 

My  mother  possessed  many  picture-books  by  Miss 
Greenaway  which  had  been  rendered  more  interesting 
by  the  artist's  dedication  with  an  original  water- 
colour  added.  These  books,  together  with  a  complete 
set  of  almanacks,  most  of  them  adorned  with  a  little 
drawing,  are  in  the  writer's  possession. 

During  her  long  life  my  mother  had  many  friends 
who  dabbled  in  art  or  letters,  most  of  whom  sent  her 
some  specimen  of  their  work. 

The  former  she  would  declare  were  all  very  well,  but 
amateur  authors  were  often  a  nuisance,  for  one  had 
to  get  their  books  and  worse  still  read  them  whether 
one  wanted  to  or  not. 

She  made  an  exception,  however,  in  the  case  of  thr 
late  Sir  Henry  Thompson,  a  very  old  and  very  great 
friend  of  hers,  who  wrote  under  the  nom  de  plume  of 
"  Pen  Oliver." 

It  was  well  said  of  Sir  Henry  that  he  took  a  delight 
in  whatever  lent  charm  and  elegance  to  life.  Besides 
being  one  of  the  foremost  surgeons  of  his  day,  he  was 
a  novelist,  amateur  artist,  and  enthusiastic  photo- 
grapher— his  interests  indeed  were  very  wide  and  he 
thoroughly  understood  how  to  get  the  best  out  of 
existence. 

He  was  a  wholehearted  advocate  of  cremation  and 
entirely  won  my  mother  over  to  his  views,  hence  a 
stringent  and  peremptory  clause  in  her  will  to  the 
effect  that  she  should  be  cremated.  With  reference 
to  this  it  may  be  remarked  that  in  anything  connected 
with  the  progress  of  science  she  showed  an  almost 
masculine  sturdiness,  and  did  not  allow  herself  to  be 


SIR  HENRY  THOMPSON  207 

in  the  slightest  degree  affected  by  those  sentimental 
or  emotional  considerations  which  have  such  a  powerful 
influence  upon  the  majority  of  her  sex. 

Sir  Henry  was  noted  for  his  "  octaves,"  pleasant 
dinners  of  eight,  men  only  being  invited.  To  hear  of 
these  feasts  my  mother  used  to  say  was  enough  to 
make  her  wish  to  wear  trousers,  for  the  party  always 
included  clever  and  interesting  guests. 

The  host,  though  an  avowed  gastronomist  (he 
wrote  an  excellent  work  on  cooking,  entitled  Food 
and  Feeding),  was  a  great  advocate  of  moderation 
and  was  unwearied  in  pointing  out  the  danger  of 
over-indulgence  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table  to  those 
who,  having  travelled  a  good  way  through  the  Vale 
of  Years,  were  beginning  to  find  their  path  paved 
with  indigestion. 

It  gave  him  real  pain  to  see  people  rushing  into 
the  dangers  which  he  himself  took  such  care  to  avoid. 

His  solicitude  in  this  direction  is  well  shown  by  a 
letter  written  in  1891.     He  said: 

"  I  pulled  up  in  my  great  love  of  eating  and  drinking 
too — as  far  as  I  could  at  50  and  am  now  reaping  the 
reward  thereof  with  my  present  health  at  70.  I  am 
much  better  and  stronger  than  I  was  a  year  or  two 
ago." 

Writing  in  March,  1894,  of  the  beauties  of  St.  Remo, 
Sir  Henry  described  "  the  lovely  garden  full  of 
luxuriant  palm  growth,  mimosa  trees  loaded  with 
yellow  blossom  and  redolent  of  perfume. 

"  The  blue  Mediterranean  beyond  and  a  squadron 
of  French  battleships  in  the  bay  below,  practising 
gun-fire  daily  at  a  mark  with  the  new  weapons  which 
make  small  noise  and  absolutely  no  smoke — curious 
facts  to  an  observer  of  the  old  school  who  at  least 
has  witnessed  many  a  Royal  salute,  and  always  thought 
that  the  rolling  thunder,  the  vomited  clouds  of  smoke 
were  the  very  essence  and  glory  thereof  !  ' 


208  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

At  St.  Remo  the  great  surgeon  met  Marie  Corelli, 
of  whom  he  wrote  : 


i  < 


A  pretty,  very  vivacious  little  woman,  whose 
books  you  may  have  read.  I  had  not,  but  got  one  there 
from  the  Tauchnitz  Editions,  Barabbas,  an  audacious 
account  of  the  Passion  and  crucifixion  as  a  Romance. 
Written  with  entire  belief  in  all  the  events  and  in 
honest  admiration  thereof,  but  mixed  with  fresh 
characters,  and  the  history  itself  eked  out  with  details 
which  the  Evangelists  didn't  know  or  forgot  to  put 
in.  .  .  . 

"  She  is  a  clever  little  person  without  doubt." 

Speaking  of  the  arrival  of  the  then  Prince  of  Wales, 
he  said  : 

"  H.R.H.  came  one  evening  in  his  noble  yacht  the 
Britannia  and  created  a  great  sensation.  .  .  .  He 
contested  the  International  prize  with  2  other  yachts 
whose  chance  wras  very  small.  In  fact  it  was  a  fore- 
gone conclusion.  A  lovely  day  for  it.  I  took  up  a 
good  position  on  the  Croisette  or  seashore  Boulevard 
before  the  start  at  10.30  with  my  camera  and  took  a 
few  negatives." 

Referring  to  an  account  of  recent  political  events 
my  mother  had  sent  him  he  wTote  : 

"  Your  new's — political — is  becoming  very  interest- 
ing, and  the  House  of  Commons  chessboard  has 
exhibited  some  remarkable  moves  of  late.  Labouchere 
is  on  the  warpath  with  the  irregular  step  of  the  Knight, 
and  has  contrived  to  keep  himself  en  evidence,  and 
his  friends  ! — the  Liberal  Government  in  hot  water. 
I  look  to  the  journals  with  much  curiosity  every  day." 

Sir  Henry  was  an  omnivorous  reader  and  often 
sent  my  mother  notes  and  criticisms  concerning  current 
literature. 


SIR  HENRY  THOMPSON  209 

In  a  letter  dated  July  30, 1S98,  he  wrote,  "  Yesterday 
I  began  George  Moore's  last  book,  I  Sd 

by  the  critics  to  be  his  best ;  full  of  the'  history  of  old 
music,  chiefly  Church  music,  and  very  learned. 

After    adding    tha  -criptions    of    musical 

services  and  Catholic  life  in  connection  with  the 
cathedrals   and   churches — the   v  and   t;       -    of 

Catholics  in  relation  to  their  worship  were  rather  out 
of  his  (Sir  Henry  line — he  continued,  "  I  have 
taken  up  Zola's  Pay  is  in  its  place  which  certainly  is 
general  and  widely  ranged  in  its  in:       its." 

"  I  observe,"  he  went  on,  "that  the  3  L 
Rome,  and  Paris  form  a  trilogy,  setting  forth  the  history 
of  a  Romish  priest  himself  in  doubt  at  first  and  seeking 
by  researches  in  the  most  active  centres  of  practical 
'  "Catholicism  '  or  Christianity  to  establish  his  faith, 
the  necessary  result,  if  he  be  an  honest  man,  of  losing 
it  altogether.  Moreover,  that  this  is  but  an  allegorical 
view  of  the  course  which  France  itself  is,  in  his  (Zola's) 
opinion,  not  slowly  pursuing.  I  was  not  exactlv  aware 
of  this  as  so  explicitly  understood  before  ;  and  this 
renders  it  to  me  the  more  inte: 

Like  most  sensible  people  while  recognizing  its 
necessity  Sir  Henry  deplored  the  Boer  War  and 
ardently  longed  for  its  speedy  end. 

On  July  19,  1S99,  he  wrote,  il  I  hope  we  are  going 
to  make  a  sure  and  honourable  peace  with  the  Boe:  . 
It  is  most  desirable  to  do  so  without  war  if  possible, 
for  no  end  of  reasons,  and  it  really  begins  to  look 
hopeful,    but    it    must    be    an  and    honor- 

able contract  incapable  of  giving  way  in  practical 
use 

My  mother  was  particularly  fond  of  literary  people 
and  delighted  not  only  in  their  books  but  in  their 
society. 

A  great  friend  was  the  late  Miss  Braddon 
(Mrs.  Maxwell),  a  lady  of  strong  and  clever  person- 
ality. 

My    mother    warmly    admired    the  talent   of  Mrs. 
14 


210  LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 

Maxwell's  son,  who,  like  his  gifted  mother,  has  achieved 
considerable  distinction  as  a  novelist. 

In  many  things  Mrs.  Maxwell  was  strongly  con- 
servative. Describing  in  a  letter  to  my  mother  her 
first  ride  in  a  motor-car — to  Beaulieu  Abbey — she 
said  : 

"  Well,  it  was  very  nice — car  delightfully  steered 
by  owner  thereof — going  as  smooth  as  on  velvet — 
not  a  jar — not  a  jerk — pace  quick  but  never  furious 
— yet  the  pleasure  of  the  new  mode  leaves  me  cold, 
and  I  felt  none  of  the  rapture  that  my  friends  describe 
in  that  manner  of  travelling — and  shall  ever  share 
Frederic  Harrison's  opinions  about  motors  as  the 
enemies  of  the  country-side." 

The  writer's  political  views  exactly  coincided  with 
those  of  my  mother.  At  the  time  of  the  agitation 
against  the  House  of  Lords  she  wrote  : 

"  It  still  looks  a  little  like  the  eve  of  the  first  French 
Revolution — with  Ben  Tillett  (can't  spell  the  creature's 
name)  clamouring  for  blood  and  a  herd  of  defeated 
strikers  inclined  to  take  his  advice — and  still  the  cry 
is  '  We  have  no  Charlotte  Cordays  !  '  " 

Most  of  her  letters,  however,  dealt  with  more 
peaceful  themes  than  Revolutionists. 

Describing  her  life  in  the  country  she  said  : 

"  In  the  evenings  I  sit  with  a  folio  copy  of  Horace 
Walpole's  letters  to  George  Montagu  on  my  knee — 
the  ist  edition — in  a  print  that  he  who  runs  may  read 
— quite  delightful  for  the  evenings — tho'  very  different 
from  my  Wharncliffe  edition  at  home.  I  know  those 
letters  by  heart — best  of  all  the  evening  at  Vauxhall — 
but  I  read  them  always  with  delight.  My  other 
literary  food  is  Hallam's  Constitutional  History — which 
I  read  with  interest — tho'  dry — and  hope  to  remember 
— and  a  stiff  book  Sur  Us  Evolutions  des  Forces,  by 


MISS  BRADDON  211 

le  Bon,  which  I  try  to  read  with  understanding — and 
progress  adagio  adagio,  or  largo,  largissimo — if  that 
is  slower." 

On  February  4,  1912,  she  wrote  : 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  think  of  you  in  this  Siberian  cold,  and  wonder 
where  you  are,  and  hope  that  if  you  are  in  the  seats 
of  the  mighty  the  Castle  or  Baronial  hall  which  you 
are  adorning  may  be  well  warmed  by  pipes  or  roaring 
fires,  and  that  you  may  be  free  from  every  touch  of 
cold — and  able  to  call  this  "  glorious  weather,"  as  Mr, 
Herbert  Trench  did  when  he  came  to  lunch  yesterday. 
We  had  two  out  of  the  three  men  you  so  kindly 
invited  last  summer.  Major  Jackson  (of  the  Polar 
seas)  who  is  really  the  nicest,  cheeriest  creature,  and 
Willie  Elliot,  behind  whose  nose  there  is  a  bright 
brain.  It  was  a  little  party  got  up  for  Elizabeth  Robins 
(the  Hedda  Gabler  of  years  gone  by)  with  whom  we 
are  all  in  love.  I  daresay  you  know  her — perhaps 
better  than  I  do — but  if  not,  I  must  try  and  produce 
her  when  you  honour  me  with  your  company  in 
London  some  day.  Unfortunately  she  lives  at  Hen- 
field,  Sussex,  and  is  not  often  in  London.  I  wonder 
what  you  and  Miss  Nevill  are  saying  about  the  political 
situation  which  to  my  mind  seems  utterly  dreadful — 
as  if  we  were  to  be  under  the  heel  of  a  specious  Dema- 
gogue and  his  rabble  herd  of  "  one  man  one  voters  " 
for  the  rest  of  our  lives — unless  the  crucial  home  rule 
question  dishes  him.  Surely  the  rock  against  which 
the  grand  old  man  went  to  pieces  is  hardly  to  be 
circumnavigated  by  "  words,  words,  words,"  from 
Asquith  and  Lloyd  George. 

Miss  Braddon's  popularity  as  a  novelist  was  at  one 
time  very  great  and  she  well  deserved  the  success 
which  she  obtained,  but  the  majority  of  the  three- 
volume  novels  which  were  produced  in  such  quan- 
tities were  poor  reading. 


212  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

In  the  seventies  many,  tired  of  the  insipidities  of 
the  three-volume  novel,  sought  relief  in  French  con- 
temporary literature.  Speaking  of  a  recently  pub- 
lished French  book  a  lady  wrote  to  my  mother,  "  It 
is  beautifully  written,  but  very  improper — so  much 
so  that  Hachette  won't  sell  it  at  the  Railway  Stalls  ! 
Need  I  say  on  hearing  this  I  immediately  ordered  it. 
...  If  only  somebody  would  write  a  readable  English 
novel  we  should  not  then  be  driven  to  bad  French 
ones,  pour  charmer  nos  ennuis." 

In  the  nineties,  however,  came  the  Yellow  Book 
and  a  regular  craze  for  Realism. 

Works  hitherto  tabooed  by  the  austere  were  noted 

to  be  mere  milk  and  water.     It  was  then  that  Miss 

Rhoda  Broughton,  also  a  friend  of  my  mother's,  said, 

4  I  used  to  be  the  Zola  of  English  literature  now  I  am 

the  Charlotte  Yonge." 

A  writer  for  whom  my  mother  had  the  greatest 
admiration  was  Mr.  Austin  Dobson.  Her  only  com- 
plaint against  him  was  that  his  visits  to  Charles 
Street  were  too  rare.  She  delighted  in  his  charming 
and  cultured  studies  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
another  bond  of  union  was  that  Mr.  Dobson,  like  her- 
self, was  a  great  friend  and  admirer  of  Mr.  Edmund 
Gosse. 

Long  years  before  she  had  been  in  correspondence 
with  Mr.  Gosse's  father  about  entomology  and  had 
also  known  a  venerable  relative  of  his,  "  Thomas  Bell," 
of  Selborne,  a  noted  zoologist. 

She  met  Mr.  Gosse  at  the  house  of  Sir  Redvers  and 
Lady  Audrey  Buller  somewhere  about  the  winter  of 
1887,  and  at  once  formed  a  friendship  with  him  which 
only  terminated  with  her  death.  Mr.  Gosse  in  a 
greater  degree  than  most  of  her  friends  seemed  to  be 
able  to  snatch  the  secret  of  her  very  elusive  personality, 
and  she  for  her  part  entertained  the  very  greatest 
admiration  for  his  many  brilliant  and  clever  qualities. 
He  was  ever  warmly  appreciative  of  her  fanciful  and 
highly  original  brain,  and  in  1892  dedicated  to  her  a 


MR.  EDMUND  GOSSE  213 

charming  piece  of  literature,  "  The  Secret  of  Narcisse  " 
— a  short  story  illustrating  the  events  of  a  twelve- 
month in  the  sixteenth-century  community  of  Bar-le- 
Duc,  in  which  mediaeval  superstition  and  love  play 
a  great  part. 

Mr.  Gosse  was  a  constant  correspondent,  and  nothing 
delighted  her  more  than  receiving  his  clever  letters, 
indeed,  when  they  were  not  forthcoming  in  the 
abundance  she  desired,  she  would  become  almost 
tyrannical  in  her  remonstrances  and  complaints, 
humorously  lamenting  the  total  and  terrible  neglect 
of  an  old  friend  and  comically  reproaching  him  for 
his  misdeeds. 

All  this,  however,  he  has  admirably  told  in  an 
article  which  appeared  in  the  Fortnightly  Review  and 
was  afterwards  privately  reprinted. 

In  her  last  years  the  book  she  liked  best  was  the 
latter's  (Mr.  Gosse's)  Father  and  Son.  She  read  it 
over  and  over  again  thoroughly  appreciating  the 
marvellous  observation  and  humour  with  which  it 
abounds. 

Staying  one  wet  week-end  in  a  south  country 
village  she  wrote  to  Mr.  Gosse  : 

"  I  wish  that  Zola  could  describe  this  place  with 
all  the  shops  shut,  rain  falling,  and  most  of  the 
inhabitants  in  their  cups." 

A  not  altogether  untrue  if  severe  description  of  an 
English  provincial  Sunday. 

She  was  much  too  broadminded  to  be  shocked  at 
Zola's  lack  of  reticence,  for  false  prudery,  indeed,  she 
ever  showed  the  greatest  contempt. 

On  one  occasion  a  prig  fresh  from  the  University, 
happening  to  have  been  invited  to  one  of  her  luncheon 
parties,  took  up  La  Bete  Humaine,  which  chanced  to 
be  lying  on  her  drawing-room  table.  "  Surely,  Lady 
Dorothy,"  said  he,  "  you  must  be  aware  that  this  is 
no  book  for  a  lady."  "  Really,"  said  she,  '  anyhow 
it's  'just  ,thc  book  for  me." 


214  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  last  French  books  she  read  were  two  volumes 
dealing  with  Verlaine,  in  which  decadent  poet,  extra- 
ordinarily enough  (she  was  then  85),  she  took  the 
warmest  interest  ! 

Though  often  professing  a  sort  of  comical  horror 
for  those  "  horrid  demons  of  Frenchmen,"  as  she 
sometimes  called  them,  my  mother  had  a  number  of 
French  friends. 

Notable  among  these  was  M.  Jusserand,  the  dis- 
tinguished diplomatist  with  a  profound  knowledge  of 
English  literature.  An  Anglo-French  friend  was 
Madame  Duclaux,  that  charming  writer  who  originally 
won  recognition  under  her  maiden  name  of  Mary  F. 
Robinson.  She  first  married  the  late  Professor  James 
Darmestteter,  an  Oriental  philologist  of  the  first  rank, 
who  in  a  high  degree  possessed  the  intense  mental 
vibration  which  borders  upon  genius. 

The  Professor's  marriage,  it  should  be  added,  had 
been  brought  about  owing  to  his  having  been  deeply 
impressed  by  translating  Miss  Robinson's  poems  into 
French  ;  the  happy  union  of  these  two  clever  people 
did  not,  however,  last  long,  for  one  autumn  afternoon 
in  1894  James  Darmestteter  seated  at  his  writing- 
table  "  drooped  the  head  heavy  with  knowledge  and 
thought  on  his  frail  chest  "  and  never  lifted  it  again. 

His  marvellous  breadth  of  learning,  profound  origin- 
ality of  thought,  and  splendid  literary  abilities,  had, 
after  Renan's  death,  caused  him  to  be  regarded  as  the 
most  distinguished  scholar  of  France. 

My  mother  went  over  to  France  several  times 
specially  to  see  Madame  Duclaux,  and  in  a  letter 
written  shortly  after  one  of  these  visits  the  latter 
said  : 

"  You  are  certainly  one  of  the  kindest  and  most 
charming  persons  alive,  and  occupy  in  my  memory 
a  little  niche  apart,  along  with  M.  Gaston  Paris,  my 
angel  of  a  French  publisher,  Mme.  Taine  and  a  few 
other  extraordinary  beings." 


MADAME  DUCLAUX  215 

Later  on,  after  the  writer  had  married  M.  Duclaux, 
my  mother  went  over  to  France  to  see  her  again'  and 
they  remained  constant  correspondents  till  the  latter's 
death. 

Madame  Duclaux  wrote  to  her  frequently  about 
books  at  one  time.  She  tried  to  interest  my  mother 
in  Tolstoi,  but  I  fancy  without  success. 

'  Every  creature  you  meet,"  wrote  Madame 
Duclaux,  "  is  reading  Tolstoi's  Resurrection,  which  is 
really  a  wonderful  book,  for  the  life  and  thought  in 
it,  although  rather  mad  !  Governments  differ  chiefly 
by  their  vices  and  nations  by  their  virtues,  and  this 
book  really  does  bring  home  to  one  the  mediocrity 
and  muddle-headedness  of  Russian  tyranny,  and  the 
patience  and  charity  of  the  Russian  character  :  it 
must  be  a  fine  thing  to  paint  the  portrait  of  one's 
country  as  Tolstoi  knows  how  to  do." 

The  letters  of  Madame  Duclaux  were  always  in- 
teresting. 

39  Avenue  de  Breteuil, 

Paris. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

My  mother  has  sent  me  on  your  kind  letter. 
How  pleased  I  am  to  have  news  of  you  and  to  hear 
that  you  like  Vallery  Radot's  book — I  shall  tell  him 
when  I  see  him  next.  If  only  you  would  come  to 
Paris,  we  would  show  you  everything  scientific  you 
would  care  to  see.  And  you  should  take  me  to  a 
Music-hall  and  complete  my  education  ! 

I  think  I  have  not  written  to  you  since  last  April 
when  I  was  expecting  my  mother  and  Mabel.  They 
stayed  a  month  with  us.  We  spent  the  summer  at  a 
dear  odd  little  tiny  place  of  my  husband's  in  Auvergne. 
It  is  on  the  side  of  a  mountain,  there  is  only  our  house 
and  two  farms — and,  glittering  miles^away  down  in 
the  valley,  a  village  called  Vic-sur-Lere,  which  people 
are  beginning  to  find  out  because  the  Orleans  Railway 


216  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

has  built  a  big  hotel  there.  But  the  village  (which 
is  our  metropolis)  is  still  so  primitive  that  one  day 
when  I  had  sent  the  gardener  there  for  some  eau-de- 
Cologne,  he  returned  with  a  quaint  old  flagon  of  Eau 
de  Lubin — a  century  old  I  should  think.  Eau-de- 
Cologne  has  not  yet  penetrated  to  Vic-sur-Lere  !  I 
liked  the  wild  solitude  of  the  place.  The  beautiful 
hills  with  their  woods  and  black  basalt  rocks  dripping 
with  waterfalls  and  springs  ;  and  I  liked  the  kindly 
peasants  and  the  primitive  life,  the  oat  cake  and 
honey  for  breakfast  and  the  clotted  cream  for  tea. 
If  you  can  imagine  a  cheerful  Scotland  or  a  moun- 
tainous Devonshire,  shorn  of  their  seas,  you  will  have 
a  very  good  idea  of  the  Cantal. 

Miss  Paget  stayed  with  us  on  her  way  South.  She 
is  now  back  in  Florence — very  lonely,  I  fear.  I  wish 
she  would  take  a  flat  in  Paris  for  the  winter.  My 
husband  and  I  shall  very  likely  run  over  to  London 
in  the  spring  and,  if  you  do  not  come  to  see  us  earlier, 
I  hope  at  least  then  to  introduce  him  to  you. 

Ever  most  gratefully  and  affectionately  yours, 

Mary  Duclaux. 


"  What  a  comfort  it  is,"  she  wrote  in  another  letter, 
"to  be  able  to  say  '  a  sale  gouvernement !  '  If  one's 
own  party  was  in,  one  would  have  to  support  the  weight 
of  their  shortcomings  and  their  follies,  and  did  you 
ever  know  a  government,  dear  Lady  Dorothy,  with- 
out them  ?  You  might  do  worse  than  imitate  us. 
Here  we  let  the  steam  off  so  freely  that  the  boiler  is 
pretty  safe  in  France,  and  like  you  I  have  a  deep 
belief  in  the  level-headedness  of  the  English.  But, 
ah,  do  not  say  that  you  are  'copying  our  Apaches.' 
You  have  always  had  them.  The  roughs  of  London 
rilled  Taine  with  stupor  when  he  was  a  refugee  in 
London  in  1871,  and  I  remember,  in  his  life  and 
letters,  a  letter  to  his  wife,  where  he  says  :  '  In  Paris, 
the   lower   classes   look   clean,    prosperous,    well-fed, 


MADAME  DUCLAUX  217 

polite,  and  the  result  is  the  Commune.  Over  here 
you  see  the  most  unspeakable  hooligans  at  the  corners 
of  all  the  streets  and  nothing  happens.  But  if  a 
Revolution  ever  did  take  place,  they  would  be  a 
terrible,  an  explosive,  element  in  it/  I  am  quoting 
from  memory,  but  the  words  are  to  that  effect. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  we  have  no  Suffragettes  and  cannot 
even  imagine  what  there  is  to  get  so  excited  about. 
Most  sensible  people  over  here  bitterly  regret  the 
manhood  suffrage,  and  few  people  are  inclined  to  endure 
martyrdom  for  a  thing  so  lightly  considered  as  a  vote. 
That  is  our  weakness.  We  like  politics  to  be  full  of 
sentiment,  eloquence,  fun,  street  rows,  wreaths  hung 
on  statues,  and  don't  really  much  mind  what  goes 
on  in  the  Chamber.  Your  Suffragettes  are  the  revanche 
of  your  level-headedness — your  excellent,  parlia- 
mentary, political  sense  !  " 

Though  very  undemonstrative  and  to  all  outward 
appearance  most  unemotional,  my  mother,  as  the 
following  shows,  overflowed  with  sympathy  for  her 
friends. 

While  engaged  upon  this  memoir  I  wrote  to  Madame 
Duclaux  asking  if  she  could  give  me  any  reminiscences 
to  which  she  replied  : 

"  In  the  way  of  reminiscence,  the  best  trait  I  can 
give  you  is  one  that  illustrates  her  extraordinary 
kindness  of  heart.  In  1895  I  was  in  very  bad  health 
and  low  spirits,  after  the  shock  of  the  death  of  Pro- 
fessor Darmestteter  ;  I  would  see  no  one,  go  nowhere 
and  had  become  such  a  phantom  my  friends  and 
physicians  had  no  good  opinion  of  the  case.  Lady 
Dorothy  offered  to  come  and  stay  with  me  ;  but, 
with  the  self-engrossed  sadness  of  people  in  such  a 
state,  I  refused  to  have  her.  So  she  came  and  stayed 
a  few  weeks  at  the  Hotel  Continental.  She  used  to 
come  to  lunch  with  me,  every  day  almost,  in  the  Bd. 
de  la  Tour  Maubourg  and  stay  and  talk  for  an  hour 
or  so,  and  then  make  me  walk  back  •  Uh  her  to  tea, 


218  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

and  though  her  visit  was  not  very  long  she  contrived 
to  break  the  habit  of  self-absorption  and  melancholy, 
reading  me  letters  from  all  sorts  of  interesting  persons, 
begging  me  to  invite  others  to  meet  her,  persuading 
me  to  set  to  work  again.  .  .  .  The  brilliant  liveliness 
and  originality  of  Lady  Dorothy  covered  a  great  fund 
of  shrewd  good  sense  and  the  kindest  heart.  I  need 
not  tell  you  !  I  can  scarcely  think  now  of  this  little 
episode  without  '  la  larme  a  l'ceil  !  '  " 

There  was  nothing  my  mother  liked  better  than 
making  the  acquaintance  of  clever  young  men,  she 
would  lament  there  were  so  few  of  them  ! 

Among  the  number,  however,  she  placed  none 
higher  than  Major  Maurice  Baring  (brother  of  Lord 
Revelstoke),  whose  high  mental  gifts  and  originality 
made  a  great  impression  upon  her. 

A  brilliant  writer  and  a  real  poet  Major  Maurice 
thoroughly  understood  her  somewhat  elusive  person- 
ality, while  he  appreciated  the  original  humour  which 
constituted  one  of  her  greatest  charms. 

It  was  a  peculiar  quality  of  my  mother's  to  be  liked 
as  well  by  women  as  by  men,  her  great  friends  indeed 
were  drawn  in  about  equal  proportions  from  both 
sexes. 

Lady  Airlie,  Blanche,  a  fine  type  of  intellectual 
patrician  womanhood,  who  happily  still  survives, 
carried  on  a  correspondence  with  my  mother  for 
many  years.  Her  letters  were  always  interesting  and 
delightful,  for  she  was  a  born  letter- writer. 

My  mother  warmly  appreciated  this  lady's  high 
intellectual  gifts  and  goodness  of  heart. 

When  in  Scotland  Lady  Airlie's  whole  time  was 
devoted  to  doing  good  among  the  poor.  An  excellent 
nurse,  many  villagers  have  owed  their  lives  to  her. 

"  I  have,"  wrote  she  to  my  mother  in  1882,  "  many 
sick  people  to  nurse,  two  young  men,  each  21  years 
of  age.  One  has  consumption  and  the  other  typhoid. 
I  hope  to  cure  them  both,  they  live  up  two  different 


COUNTESS  OF  AIRLIE  219 

glens,  so  I  go  nearly  every  day  to  one  or  the  other. 
I  always  think  fighting  for  life  is  most  interesting  and 
exciting,  and  I  am  a  good  nurse  and  think  of  many 
comforts  the  poor  never  dream  of — things  they  could 
do  if  they  only  knew  how." 

After  spending  a  week  in  1903  near  Ashridge  she 
wrote : 


a 


Do  you  remember  a  great  breakfast  there  when 
we  were  all  young  in  Lady  Marion's  time — when  all 
London  went  down  for  the  day  ?  Later  I  stayed  there 
with  my  two  eldest  girls  with  Lady  Brownlow.  It  is 
so  beautiful  and  the  gardens  and  great  trees  and  end- 
less park  with  deer  and  brake  were  beautiful  in  the 
sunshine.  The  house  full  of  art  treasures — a  Mona 
Lisa  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci  like  the  one  in  the  Louvre 
only  better.  And  you  can  drive  for  14  miles  in  parks 
touching  one  another  and  belonging  to  different 
people.  .  .  . 

"It  is  sad  to  see  Ashridge  without  heirs,  but  the 
curse  of  church  lands  hangs  over  it  and  it  never  goes 
from  father  to  son." 

Her  letters  from  Scotland  were  always  bright  and 
amusing.  The  year  that  Bernal  Osborne's  daughter 
was  married  to  the  Duke  of  St.  Albans,  she  wrote : 

"  Do  you  care  to  have  news  of  a  Scotch  country 
mouse  ?  I  feel  as  if  my  solitary  life  made  me  years 
instead  of  months  away  from  London,  but  as  I  think 
of  you,  you  are  not  London  to  me,  but  one  of  a  few 
who  come  to  one's  mind  and  heart  at  the  New  Year. 
I  hope  it  will  be  a  happy  New  Year  to  you  and  yours 
— and  yours  especially,  for  it  is  only  through  those 
you  love  you  can  ever  be  made  seriously  unhappy. 
People  like  yourself  and  Mrs.  Somerville  with  occupa- 
tions and  genius,  some  more,  some  less,  I  am  not 
putting  you  quite  with  Mrs.  Somerville  so  do  not  say 
I  flatter,  but  people  of  your  sort  have  a  little  kingdom 


220  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

of  delights  to  which  they  retire  after  the  rubs  of  the 
world,  and  where  they  sit  aloft  with  Nature  and  laugh 
at  the  disturbing  elements  below  which  make  the 
happiness  and  sorrow  of  the  stupider  part  of  mankind. 
One  of  the  many  charming  biographies  of  the  year, 
this  out-of-the-way  county  claims  a  share  in  two  of 
the  most  important  people,  J.  Stuart  Mill's  father 
was  born  here,  and  Mrs.  Somerville  spent  much  of 
her  youth  close  to  us.  Constable's  Memoirs  are  also 
full  of  anecdotes  of  this  county.  But  will  the  savour 
and  originality  of  these  minds,  who  struggled  their 
way  up  for  themselves,  now  die  out  in  the  easy  royal 
road  prepared  for  them  ?  We  are  busy  preparing  for 
Christmas,  and  the  children  are  to  surprise  me  with  a 
play.  I  have  enjoyed  beyond  words  the  space  and 
liberty  of  this  now  large  house,  and  I  think  it  is  very 
gay  and  open,  and  yet  capable  of  delightful  solitudes  ; 
some  day  you  must  really  put  yourself  into  the 
'  Limited  '  and  come  and  see  me. 

"  Write  to  me  meanwhile  and  tell  me  who  you  are 
seeing.  How  is  Dizzy  and  how  is  poor  Meyer  de 
Rothschild,  and  Bernal  Osborne  ?  Is  he  pleased  with 
his  daughter's  marriage  ?  " 

Much  of  this  correspondence  was  devoted  to  dis- 
cussing books,  her  criticisms  as  a  rule  being  excep- 
tionally just. 

Writing  in  August,  1898,  she  said  : 

"  I  have  read  George  Moore's  book,  Evelyn  Innes, 
and  I  think  it,  like  all  he  writes,  remarkable.  The 
part  on  music,  the  early  simple  music  to  the  complete 
music  of  Wagner,  is  delightful,  but  often  beyond  my 
limited  knowledge  of  music.  The  description  of  the 
Dulwich  Gallery,  the  Chapter  on  Balzac,  the  struggle 
of  a  soul  to  repentance,  are  all  fine,  and  the  English 
so  good,  the  style  so  pure.  Of  course  it  is  the  story 
of  a  woman  who  lives  unmarried,  but  it  is  not  other- 
wise coarse  or  intended  to  be  so.    I  daresay  you  will 


COUNTESS   OF  AIRLIE  221 

have  taken  it  abroad  to  read  at  your  leisure  in  the 
drowsy  old  town.1 

1 '  I  have  written  to  him  to-day  about  his  book  and  told 
him  how  good  the  R.C.  part  seems  to  Monsignor  de 
Vay,  who  has  just  been  staying  with  me.  Do  you 
know  him  ?  I  have  met  him  two  years  in  Rome  and 
Venice.  He  is  a  favourite  of  the  Pope  and  tho'  quite 
young  has  been  chosen  for  a  Mission  to  the  Queen  of 
Spain  and  to  the  Jubilee  of  our  Queen. 

"  Do  read  Lady  Hester  Stanhope,  by  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland.  It  is  well  got  together  and  gives  one  a 
great  opinion  of  her  courage  and  originality.  I  do 
not  know  if  it  is  publicly  printed,  the  Duchess  sent 
it  to  me  herself,  and  I  think  in  her  old  age  she  is  anxious 
to  emulate  the  travels  of  her  aunt — in  distance  if  not 
in  adventure." 

Like  my  mother,  Lady  Airlie  was  a  warm  admirer 
of  Mr.  Gosse  and  his  name  often  occurred  in  her 
letters. 

Airlie  Castle, 

Alyth. 

October  31. 
Dearest  Dorothy, 

I  have  never  got  the  longer  letter  promised  to 
follow.  But  I  write  to  know  what  you  think  of  Ed. 
Gosse's  Two  Visits  to  Denmark — and  I  recommend 
it  to  you.  It  is  not  so  striking  as  Father  and  Son, 
you  can  but  have  one  Father  to  offer  up  to  the  public. 
But  Denmark  is  so  little  known,  its  language  and 
literature,  and  Gosse  seems  to  have  been  familiar  with 
it  at  a  time  when  he  was  the  only  man  who  knew  the 
people.  His  style  is  always  better  than  anyone's.  He 
is  humorous,  and  there  are  remains  of  the  Father's 
pious  teaching  in  the  interest  he  takes  in  their  churches 
— yet  freedom  from  dogma  and  a  sense  of  the  ridiculous. 

1  My  mother  had  gone  to  Bruges. 


222  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  Friends  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  is  also  admirable 
by  T.  MacCunn,  written  with  great  literary  ability. 
Jo  wet  t  was  very  fond  of  her  family.  Burning  Day 
Light  by  Jack  London  too  is  clever  enough  of  books. 
Perhaps  Rosebery  would  condemn  all  these  to  the 
flames,  but  I  find  use  for  many  books  as  I  give  a 
selection  to  my  various  poor  neighbours  for  winter 
reading  and  they  exchange  them  among  themselves. 
The  estate  is  large  and  they  are  far  from  the  central 
book  club.  You  can't  think  how  your  book  has 
been  enjoyed,  yours  and  Mrs.  Norton's  Life,  both 
people  they  have  seen  or  heard  of  as  being  my 
friends. 

In  another  letter  she  wrote  : 

"  The  book  of  Jane  Welsh  and  T.  Carlyle's  loves 
has  interested  me  more  than  I  can  say.  He  comes 
out  very  fine  and  she  very  interesting,  born  to  be  a 
peacock — fine  lady — but  putting  on  one  side  all  offers 
and  chances  of  worldly  success  for  her  peasant  philo- 
sopher. She  was  a  dainty  lady.  He  was  a  poet  and 
a  born  gentleman  and  that  saved  him  from  being  a 
rustre  like  Jean  Jacques.  The  cottage  home  of  his 
parents  must  have  been  too  rough  for  her  ever." 

From  Scotland  she  sent  my  mother  many  a  charm- 
ing letter  describing  her  life  and  the  interests  which 
absorbed  her  mind. 

The  following,  written  not  so  many  years  ago,  is 
an  example  : 

Airlie  Castle, 

Alyth. 

August  15. 
Dearest  Dorothy, 

Thank  you  for  your  letter.  You  have  had  a 
delightful  bit  of  country  and  we  are  here  enjoying 
such  heat  and  yet  such  "  nimble  air  "  as  Shakespeare 


COUNTESS   OF   AIRLIE  223 

says  in  Macbeth,  as  if  indeed  he  had  tasted  it  at 
Glamis.  Motley  wrote  the  lines  in  my  visitors'  book 
when  he  was  at  Cortachy.  It  is  just  that  nimble,  so 
light  and  so  playful.  I  have  guests  in  the  morning 
about  11.30,  who  come  and  sit  in  my  garden,  and 
admire  my  beautiful  hedges  of  beech,  yew,  and  holly 
all  newly  cut — to  a  nicety — always  the  same  old  men 
of  70,  still  earning  too  much  to  think  of  old  age  pen- 
sions, for  life  is  long  here  and  they  are  hale  and  hearty 
at  96 — a  granite  soil  and  simple  diet.  A  carpenter 
said  to  me  he  thought  the  men  about  here  the  finest 
men  he  knew — children  out  of  a  family  of  12  and  no 
want,  though  they  could  remember  hard  days  when 
the  children  were  young. 

All  the  Castles  are  full,  and  the  fine  ladies  are 
lecturing  on  tariff  reform,  which  no  one  understands, 
and  which  won't  come ;  but  this  is  a  radical  place, 
and  the  ploughmen  so  outnumber  the  farmers  there 
is  no  chance.  The  Dundee  Advertiser  is  more  and  more 
radical — and  it  is  the  paper  they  read.  I  am  getting 
the  weekly  Daily  Mail  for  them  to  see  there  are  two 
sides — I  had  sent  for  the  little  1/-  book  on  small 
holdings.  I  have  read  it  and  it  is  going  its  rounds, 
but  the  people  about  Salisbury  Plain  are  very  different 
from  our  people  here.  All  our  people  on  the  Estate 
are  well  off.  My  gardener's  son,  a  Forester,  is  gone 
off  to  Bavaria  to  study  Arboriculture — a  fortnight's 
holiday.  The  jaunt  costs  £20,  given  by  his  Master, 
and  Bavaria  gives  the  party  a  great  welcome.  Sir 
Leonard  Lyell  and  other  gentlemen  are  of  the  party. 
This  power  of  locomotion  is  what  alters  all  the  outlook 
— makes  joy  and  also  discontent. 

If  there  were  not  far  greater  forces  than  our  blind 
wills  directing  the  Universe,  what  a  muddle  it  would 
be.  Does  Lady  Dorchester  believe  in  Byron's  guilt  ? 
Lord  Broughton  does  not  seem  to  do  so. 

Yours  ever 
(Sgd.)  D.  B.  Airlie. 


224  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Lady  Airlie's  literary  judgments  were  often  very 
acute.  Writing  concerning  Lord  Acton's  letters  she 
said,  "  Literary  men's  criticisms  of  the  letters  is  with- 
out any  knowledge  of  the  background  " — a  very  wise 
remark  which  might  be  applied  to  a  number  of  book 
reviews. 

"  I  knew  Mary  Gladstone  fairly  well,"  continued 
she,  "  and  confess  I  should  never  have  thought  her 
capable  of  exciting  such  a  devotion  from  such  a  man. 
She  was,  of  course,  part  of  the  Gladstone  adoration, 
but  still  his  letters  are  almost  those  of  a  Platonic 
lover.  Too  much  is  left  out  and  he  is  sometimes  not 
very  clear." 

Except  Freddy  Leveson  I  do  not  know  who  is  left 
who  would  tell  me  much  about  him. 

Her  friends  always  spoke  of  Lady  Airlie  with  deep 
affection,  declaring  that  a  more  sympathetic  comforter 
in  one's  joys  and  griefs  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine. 
Like  most  of  the  world  she  had  her  own  great  sorrow 
in  the  death  of  one  of  her  two  dearly  loved  sons,  the 
gallant  Lord  Airlie,  killed  in  the  South  African  War. 
Lady  Airlie  was  abroad  at  Florence  when  she  received 
a  telegram  from  her  daughter,  merely  : 

"  Poor  Mother." 

"  I  knew  then,"  wrote  she  to  my  mother,  "  that  I 
had  but  one  son." 

"  He  had  been  wounded  before,"  she  said,  '  a 
little  cigarette-case,  my  last  gift,  saved  the  bullet 
going  further  than  thro'  his  arm  that  time — but  it 
was  to  be." 


CHAPTER  IX 

Correspondence  with  friends — The  2nd  Duke  of  Wellington — Letter 
from  Sir  William  Gregory — Anecdotes — Dr.  Jessopp  and  his  gruesome 
dream — His  life  and  work — Letters  from  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison — The 
South  African  War — Mr.  Chamberlain — Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  and 
Skibo  Castle — Miss  Viola  Tree — Criticisms  of  the  Government — Anti- 
Suffrage  League — Prophecies  which  have  come  true — Lovable  Bath. 

CLEVER  and  amusing  people  are  often  unable 
to  write  as  they  talk,  and,  as  she  herself  was 
the  first  to  confess,  my  mother  rarely  did 
herself  justice  on  paper. 

"  I  have  not  indeed  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer  "  (she 
once  wrote),  "  and  a  sincere  friend  has  just  written  and 
told  me  that  though  I  may  talk  well  I  cannot  write. 
This  is  so  true  that  it  dispirits  me  from  that  exer- 
cise." 

Her  missives — often  penned  in  haste  and  seldom 
dated — were  apt  to  be  scrappy,  in  addition  to  which 
she  was  careless  as  to  punctuation,  capitals,  and  the 
like. 

This  carelessness  occasionally  extended  as  far  as 
deliberate  misspelling  of  ordinary  words — lapses  of 
which  her  great  friend,  the  old  Duke  of  Wellington,1 
delighted  to  remind  her. 

In  August,  1871,  having  received  a  carelessly 
written  note,  he  replied  : 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

How  eloquently  you  express  the  want  of 
.breath,  the  exasperation  resulting  from  heat  by  leaving 
out  the  h  in  "  exhaustion  "  ! 

1  The  2nd  Duke,  son  of  the  victor  of  Waterloo. 
15  -25 


226  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Such  criticisms,  however,  disturbed  her  not  at  all, 
for  she  was  ever  ready  to  admit  her  epistolary  failings. 
With  the  old  Duke  she  kept  up  a  correspondence  for 
many  years,  a  portion  of  which  was  published  in  her 
Reminiscences. 

Many  of  his  letters  were  written  in  a  strain  of 
amusing  banter,  for  instance  the  following  : 

Strathfieldsaye  House. 

Aug.  19,  1872. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

If  you  were  without  fault  I  should  not  adore 
you  ;  but  unfortunately  for  my  peace  of  mind  you 
have  faults  enough  to  alarm  many  others  besides 
myself. 

In  the  first  place  you  are  illegible  and  so  is  your 
letter. 

There  are  dog  complications — I  suspect  that  Wang 
is  Japanese,  an  inferior  sort  not  Chinese,  but  she  is 
very  pretty. 

Again  Lady  Waterford  begs  to  have  her  back  by 
September.  She  thinks  dogs  as  enterprising  as  Chris- 
tians. However,  I  let  her  live  with  Japs  whose 
language  to  her  is  most  seductive. 

Lord  Eversley  has  a  garden  party  on  Thursday  next, 
and  you  and  your  family  cannot  do  better  than  come 
here  for  as  many  days  as  you  choose.  I  am  pressed 
to  bring  any  company  I  have  at  the  time.  I  have 
many  things  to  show  you. 

Yours  faithfully, 

Wellington. 

The  old  Duke  though  he  had  held  a  Commission  in 
the  army  had  nothing  of  the  soldier  about  him,  no 
visions  of  military  glory  had  ever  haunted  his  imagina- 
tion. 

In  face,  however,  he  greatly  resembled  the  pictures 
of  his  illustrious  father. 


2ND  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON  227 

He  was  a  man  of  considerable  originality  and 
independence  which  manifested  itself  in  his  costume, 
that  in  his  latter  years  at  least  comprised  an  old  soft 
felt  hat  and  an  aged  cloak  of  the  sort  once  known  as 
a  roquelaure,  this,  combined  with  his  goggles,  made 
him  a  figure  of  a  very  noticeable  and  eccentric  kind. 

Hewas  also  eccentric  in  other  ways,  one  of  his  odd 
practices,  for  instance,  was  to  use  up  half-sheets  when 
writing  to  his  friends.  All  his  fads  and  fancies  were, 
however,  quite  harmless,  and  it  might  have  been  said 
of  him,  as  it  was  of  Ruskin,  that  he  had  not  a  bee 
but  a  hive  of  bees  in  his  bonnet,  which  nevertheless 
buzzed  so  sweetly  that  it  did  not  matter. 

In  spite  of  a  slight  tendency  to  affect  cynicism,  he 
was  a  most  charitable  man  with  an  excellent  heart, 
quite  devoid  of  all  cant. 

Strathfieldsaye  in  his  day  was  a  delightful  country- 
house,  of  which  the  writer,  who,  owing  to  the  Duke's 
kindness,  as  a  boy  spent  much  of  his  holidays  there, 
will  ever  retain  pleasant  recollections.  The  Duke 
loved  to  gather  together  interesting  people  of  all  sorts 
— General  Hamley,  Lord  Wolseley,  Irving,  the  late 
Lord  Lytton,  Mr.  Escott,  and  many  others,  most  of 
whom  have  now  passed  away,  were  constant  visitors. 

This  Duke,  ever  avid  of  knowledge,  paid  little 
attention  to  class  distinctions  where  cleverness  was 
concerned. 

He  was  indeed,  as  my  mother  once  said,  "  quite 
ready  to  swallow  anyone's  snobbism  for  their  intel- 
lect." 

Notwithstanding  his  eccentricities  of  dress  and 
demeanour  the  old  Duke  was  a  worthy  representative 
of  his  class,  kindly  and  honourable  in  all  his  dealings — 
as  Lord  Lytton  wrote,  '  he  had  bravely  won  his  last 
painless  moment  "  when  he  died  quite  suddenly  in 
1884. 

The  good-natured  old  man  was  indeed  a  real  loss 
to  all  who  knew  him  ;  no  one  could  be  a  more  faithful 
or  charming  friend. 


228  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

At  the  time  of  his  death  my  mother  received  a 
number  of  sympathetic  letters  from  people  who  had 
known  and  appreciated  him.  The  late  Sir  William 
Gregory  wrote  : 

Coole  Park, 
Gort, 

Co.  Galway. 
August  17,  '84. 
So  we  have  lost  your  poor  old  Duke,  my  dear  Lady 
Dorothy.  I  know  you  will  feel  his  death  greatly,  for 
he  was  very  fond  of  you.  I  too  am  sorry,  for  I  think 
he  liked  me  and  certainly  disposed  to  be  kind  to  me 
on  all  occasions.  In  spite  of  all  his  physical  infirmities 
he  always  seemed  gay  and  was  an  excellent  com- 
panion. What  are  you  doing  with  yourself  ?  What  are 
you  going  to  do  ?  I  have  accepted  an  invitation  to 
the  Roseberys  for  the  Midlothian  Campaign  which 
will  be  an  excitement — legitimate,  I  presume.  Some- 
how or  another  I  do  not  think  the  crusade  against  the 
Lords  is  as  formidable  as  it  seemed  likely  to  be ;  you 
who  heard  both  sides  know  much  more  than  I  do. 
Are  you  talking  of  Pencarrow  ?  I  should  like  to  go 
there,  but  I  hate  and  dread  Poker  so  much  that  I 
shall  hardly  dare  to  face  it.  Do  tell  me  about  the 
scandal  hinted  at  in  Truth  of  a  rich  financial  M.P. 
and  a  lady  married  for  thirty  years,  which  is  to  be  in 
the  Divorce  Court  next  term.  Matrons  so  mature  and 
so  amorous  don't  often  come  before  the  public.  I 
am  here  trying  to  patch  up  my  unfortunate  constitu- 
tion worn  out  by  late  hours,  impure  air,  good  dinners, 
and  your  pleasant  lunches.  Do  be  compassionate  and 
send  me  a  short  scrap  of  your  writing,  and  forgive 
this  half-sheet  as  my  wife  has  gone  to  Church  and  I 
do  not  know  where  she  hides  the  paper. 

Believe  me, 

Yours  sincerely  always, 

W.  N.  Gregory. 


2ND  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON  229 

The  Duke  inherited  some  of  his  father's  strength 
of  character,  as  the  following  which  was  written  many 
years  later  by  the  son  of  Mr.  Critchett,  the  great 
oculist,  shows  : 

Enbrook, 

Sandgate. 

September  14,  1907. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Since  your  delightful  reminiscences  first  ap- 
peared I  have  had  a  keen  desire  to  read  them,  but  the 
rush  of  my  busy  professional  life  deprived  me  of  that 
pleasure.  My  summer  holiday  has  now  brought  the 
wished-for  opportunity,  and,  although  you  must  by 
this  time  be  as  weary  of  the  word  congratulations  as 
was  the  French  flower  girl  of  the  scent  of  roses,  I  must 
beg  you  to  let  me  add  one  more,  note  to  the  general 
chorus.  You  have  recalled  to  me  pleasant  memories 
of  many  valued  friends,  and  I  have  been  specially 
interested  in  what  you  have  written  about  my  good 
friend  and  patient,  the  second  Duke  of  Wellington. 
I  can  heartily  endorse  all  that  you  have  said  respecting 
his  remarkable  intelligence  and  trenchant  wit,  and 
you  may,  I  think,  be  amused  by  the  following  veracious 
and  I  hope  not  too  professional  anecdotes.  About 
thirty  years  ago  my  late  father  had  to  remove  one  of 
the  Duke's  eyes  which  had  become  sightless  and  very 
painful,  and  it  was  necessary  to  administer  an  anaes- 
thetic. This  was  done  by  the  late  Mr.  Clover,  the  great 
anaesthetist  of  that  day,  and  I  heard  the  Duke  thus 
address  him:  "Now,  Sir,  pray  understand  that  I 
don't  fear  death  but  I  abominate  pain.  If  in  your 
endeavour  to  spare  me  the  latter  you  introduce  me  to 
the  former  I  will,  should  we  meet  in  another  world, 
freely  forgive  you  ;  but  if  you  let  me  suffer  and  I 
remain  in  the  flesh,  God  help  you."  Afterwards  the 
Duke  made  merry  over  his  loss  and  to  an  enquiry  as 
to  his  eyes  replied,  "Thank  you,  one  of  them  is  in 
excellent  spirits  in  Harley  Street."     To  a  friend  who 


230  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

deplored  his  lack  of  means  he  said,  "  Take  this  tip  ; 
go  to  your  Clubs  and  bet  as  many  as  will  take  you 
that  they  cannot  name  the  distance  between  the 
Duke  of  Wellington's  eyes.  Some  will  say  an  inch 
and  a  half  and  others  two  inches,  but  they  will  all  be 
wrong  for  it  is  the  distance  between  Harley  Street  and 
Apsley  House." 

Later  on  I  had  to  undertake  the  heavy  responsibility 
of  operating  on  the  Duke's  remaining  eye,  in  which 
I  am  glad  to  say  useful  sight  remained  till  the  end  of 
his  life,  and  guided  by  my  former  experience,  I  told 
the  anaesthetist  who  replaced  Mr.  Clover,  who  had 
died  in  the  interval,  that  a  deep  effect  would  be  needed. 
After  a  comparatively  short  time  he  told  me  that  I 
might  begin  to  operate  and  seemed  surprised  when  I 
emphatically  shook  my  head.  After  another  minute 
he  said  "he  is  really  profoundly  '  off '  for  I  have 
three  times  touched  his  eye  and  he  has  not  flinched." 
I  entirely  disconcerted  him  by  pointing  out  the  eye 
he  had  so  assiduously  touched  was  artificial.  To  the 
end  of  his  life  the  Duke  generously  kept  me  supplied 
with  pheasants  and  peaches,  and  in  the  last  letter 
which  he  wrote  to  my  wife,  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  he  invited  us  to  Strathfieldsaye  and  said,  '  I 
have  arranged  a  special  room  for  your  baby  for  I 
know  you  won't  be  happy  without  him." 

My  better  half  joins  me  in  kindest  regards  to  Miss 
Meresia  and  yourself  and  in  the  hope  that  you  will 
pardon  me  for  wearying  you  with  this  long  letter. 
I  am,  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Sincerely  yours, 

Anderson  Critchett. 


My  mother's  carelessness  as  to  the  spelling  of 
people's  names  once  evoked  an  amusing  protest  from 
a  great  friend  of  hers,  the  late  Dr.  Jessopp,  the  author 
of  a  book  about  the  Walpoles — One  Generation  of  a 
Norfolk  House. 


DR.  JESSOPP  231 

In  reply  to  a  letter  of  hers  in  which  she  had  styled 
him  "  Dr.  Jessop,"  he  wrote  : 

"  Alas  !  I  must  trouble  you  for  one  more  letter  ! 
When  I  was  in  the  nursery  I  heard  my  father  say 
boisterously  to  someone : 

"  '  My  grandfather  used  to  say  that  all  the  Jessopps 
in  England  with  one  p  were  his  grandfather's  natural 
children  !  ' 

"  I  thought  my  father  had  made  a  mistake  and 
that  he  meant  and  ought  to  have  said  unnatural 
children.  It  made  such  a  horrid  impression  upon  my 
youthful  mind  that  for  many  years  (even  to  early 
manhood)  when  I  was  at  all  anxious,  overwrought, 
or  ill,  I  used  to  be  haunted  by  a  gruesome  dream — of 
processions  of  monsters,  hideous,  devilish,  malignant, 
half-human,  half-bestial,  but  all  terrible  and  revolting 
— for  they  were  all  branded  with  a  single  Capital ! 

"  I  do  truly  believe  this  night  I  shall  have  that  old 
bad  dream  again  !    Woe  is  me  !  " 

It  was  Dr.  Jessopp  who,  while  staying  at  Manning- 
ton,  declared  that  he  saw  the  ghost  of  Henry  Walpole ; 
the  story  was  told  at  length  in  the  Athetueum.  For 
years  he  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  my  mother, 
and  some  of  his  letters  were  very  fanciful  and  amusing. 

Scarning  Rectory, 

East  Dereham. 

December  20,  1895. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  venture  to  send  your  Ladyship  a  Christmas 
card.  It  is  very  little  more  than  a  card,  but  it  will 
serve  to  remind  you  that  I  am  still  in  the  land  of  the 
living  and  not  unmindful  of  those  obligations  of 
homage  which  I  owe. 

If  you  have  such  cards  to  send  as  this  troublesome 
nineteenth  century  seems  to  require  of  us  all,  high 
and  low,  Luke  Tremdim  may  come  in  almost  as  con- 


232  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

veniently  as  wriggling  forget-me-nots  and  gaudy 
heartseases,  and  prize  babies,  chubby  and  plump, 
representing  Cupids  and  other  heathen  gods  and 
foolish  monsters. 

This  year  has  been  a  j^ear  of  very  hard  work  for  me. 
The  Congress  nearly  brought  on  my  demise — and 
since  then  I  have  been  working  night  and  day  at 
St.  William  of  Norwich,  the  boy  saint  whom — as 
fable  reporteth  or  as  liars  relate — the  Jews  of  Norwich 
murdered  in  a.d.  1144.  The  (Latin)  Manuscript  life 
of  the  saint  disappeared  for  more  than  four  centuries, 
and  was  fished  up  in  an  obscure  Suffolk  village  two 
or  three  years  ago.  The  Cambridge  University  Press 
have  undertaken  the  publication  of  the  book.  I  have 
translated  it  and  am  now  writing  a  somewhat  elaborate 
Introduction.  The  book  can  hardly  hope  to  pay  its 
expenses — unless  indeed  the  Hebrews  in  England  and 
Germany  take  it  up — but  in  any  case  I  shall  probably 
obtain  honour  and  glory  from  it  which  is  about  all 
that  ever  comes  to  me  for  my  literary  exertions. 

Thrice  in  six  months  have  barren  honours  been 
bestowed  upon  me.  I  have  been  made  an  Hon. 
Canon  in  Norwich  Cathedral — which  is  a  very  different 
thing  from  being  a  "  Canon  of  Norwich  " — I  have  been 
elected  an  Honorary  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge — there  are  only  half  a  dozen  of  us,  and 
Sir  John  Gorst  is  one  of  the  six  with  your  humble 
servant — and  also  Hon.  Fellow  of  Worcester  Coll., 
Oxford.  All  these  distinctions  are  pleasant  and 
gratifying  to  one's  vanity,  but  noblesse  oblige,  and,  so 
far  from  any  solid  pudding,  they  all  entail  some  ex- 
pense direct  and  indirect.  However,  as  a  friend  of 
mine  remarked  to  me — "  My  dear  Fellow  !  you  can 
have  'em  all  inscribed  upon  your  tombstone  and 
posterity  will  wonder  !  " 

I'm  beginning  to  think  that  I  shall  not  have  a 
tombstone  at  all,  however.  Things  are  bad  all  round 
me,  and  I'm  not  sure  that  I  shall  leave  enough  to 
provide  decent  burial  for  myself.     My  wife  and  I  are 


DR.  JESSOPP  233 

every  now  and  then  putting  our  heads  together  and 
scheming  how  we  can  put  down  the  carriage  and 
horses.  But  we  are  dominated  over  by  our  coach- 
man who  has  been  with  me  some  twenty-five  years  and 
whose  children  have  grown  up  under  our  eye  and  we 
haven't  the  pluck  to  send  the  good  man  away  to  begin 
the  world  again  at  sixty  ;  so  it  always  comes  to  the 
same  thing  over  again  and  we  feel  deep  sympathy 
for  our  betters  (which  by  the  by  very  few  people  do 
feel !)  who  all  round  us  are  being  compelled  to  leave 
the  homes  of  their  youth  and  to  hide  their  heads  in 
old  age  in  a  flat  or  a  garret.  However,  that  subject 
is  really  too  sad  to  dwell  on. 

I  was  preaching  the  Burghley  sermon  at  Stamford 
the  other  day — what  a  grand  place  Burghley  is  ! — 
as  the  representative  of  my  old  College — another  of 
these  honorary  distinctions  which  are  "  their  own 
reward  " — and  a  very  interesting  expedition  it  was  ; 
the  immediate  consequence,  however,  was  that  I  had 
five  invitations  during  the  next  week  to  deliver 
sermons  or  addresses  or  lectures  in  various  parts  of 
the  earth  on  five  different  subjects,  to  all  of  which  I 
returned  the  same  answer — "  By  no  means  !  " 

Seaming  church  is  now  a  joy  to  all  beholders  !  The 
fabric  was  becoming  ruinous  and  I  am  very  thankful 
to  say  we  have  been  able  to  spend  about  £700  upon 
it — without  any  fuss  or  any  bazaar  or  any  noise  or 
flourish  of  trumpets  whatsoever.  I  did  not  even 
have  a  reopening  Festival  and  a  Bishop  to  preach 
for  me.  My  friends  and  readers  sent  me  close  upon 
£500 — and  the  rest  came  from  the  heavens  above  I 
suppose — but  I  am  sure  it  did  not  come  from  any 
profits  from  the  earth  beneath. 

All  painting  and  gilding  and  everything  in  the  shape 
of  ornamentation  I  have  left  to  my  successors.  I  know 
that  the  man  who  comes  after  me  will  look  upon  me 
as  a  heathen  man  and  a  heretic  for  not  beginning  at 
the  east  end.  But  I  shall  not  care — my  bones  will  not 
hear  him  talk  ! 


234  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

I  don't  hear  much  of  Lord  Orford  and  her  ladyship. 
A  friend  of  mine  was  at  Mannington  the  other  day  and 
was  greatly  charmed  with  the  daughter — her  little 
ladyship  (by  way,  Lady  Dorothy  the  second)  wrote 
the  good  man  a  pretty  little  letter  and  he  is  so  proud 
of  it  that  I  think  he  is  going  to  frame  it  and  hang  it 
up  in  his  private  sanctum. 

I  was  so  distressed  and  humiliated  by  the  triumph 
of  the  Labour  candidate  in  this  division  at  the  Election, 
that  I  began  seriously  to  think  of  throwing  up  this 
living  and  burying  myself  in  a  hole  for  the  rest  of  my 
life.  But  I  recovered  myself  partially  and  I  think 
I  shall  stay  and  die  here  and  do  my  best  among  the 
poor  people  in  the  meantime — if  so  it  is  to  be. 

With  all  good  Christmas  wishes, 
I  am  always, 
Your  Ladyship's  faithful,  humble  servant, 
(Sgd.)        Augustus  Jessopp. 

One  of  my  mother's  greatest  friends  was  Mr. 
Frederic  Harrison,  who  came  frequently  to  Charles 
Street  when  he  was  in  town.  There  was  scarcely  any- 
one for  whom  she  had  a  greater  admiration  ;  and  for 
the  last  twenty  years  of  her  life  a  constant  flow  of 
letters  passed  between  them.  She  looked  forward  to 
Mr.  Harrison's  visits  as  red-letter  days.  On  one 
occasion  when  she  had  missed  him,  she  wrote  : 

Oh  my  dear  Mr.  Harrison, 

You  are  very  vexatious.  I  thought  you  told 
me  you  were  leaving  London ;  so,  of  course,  not 
believing  you  were  here,  went  out  to  several  shows — 
of  pictures,  etc.,  and  returned  here  to  find  myself  dis- 
consolate and  you  gone.  Oh  what  a  time  of  disaster 
it  all  is  !  I  really  was,  as  the  maids  would  say,  "  so 
put  about."  I  could  think  of  nothing  else — and  I 
did  so  want  to  see  you.  It  would  have  been  so  delight- 
ful to  have  a  talk  over  the  present  situation— everyone 


MR.  FREDERIC  HARRISON  235 

is  so  apathetic  ;  no  one  seems  to  care  what  happens, 
and  no  one  seems  to  know  how  it  will  all  end.  I  hope 
you  have  good  news  of  your  youngest  son ;  you  may 
indeed  be  proud  of  all  of  them. 

My  mother  was  never  very  enthusiastic  about  the 
South  African  War,  but  she  did  not  go  as  far  as  Mr. 
Harrison  who,  viewing  it  with  disapproval  and  dis- 
like, never  scrupled  to  denounce  those  whom  he  con- 
sidered responsible  for  it. 

In  1899  he  wrote  : 

38  Westbourne  Terrace,  W. 

19  December. 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Pray  do  come  and  see  us,  any  afternoon  this 
week  or  next,  and  let  us  mourn  over  the  crimes  of  the 
goldseekers  and  the  disasters  of  our  country.  Nothing 
that  has  happened  has  in  the  least  surprised  me.  I 
saw  all  this,  and  for  six  months  have  been  crying  out 
warnings  to  our  statesmen  that  they  were  staking 
the  existence  of  the  Empire,  and  the  peace  and  honour 
of  our  country.  Not  that  I  pretend  to  any  foresight 
or  sagacity.  But  I  happened  to  have  first-hand 
knowledge  of  facts  and  knew  so  many  of  those  deeply 
concerned  in  this  affair,  in  S.  Africa  and  at  home,  and 
have  heard  and  read  all  about  it  for  years,  and  so  I 
felt  certain  that  Milner  and  Chamberlain  were  being 
misled  by  intrigues  and  conspirators,  and  were  mis- 
leading our  Government  at  home.  It  does  not  sur- 
prise me  in  the  least.  I  have  been  re-reading 
my  own  articles,  lectures,  and  speeches  ever  since  last 
fune,  and  I  see  that  what  I  warned  them  of  has 
happened. 

Not  that  a  few  checks  (they  are  not  "  defeats  ")  are 
of  such  great  consequence.  The  real  danger  is  in  the 
future,  and  the  proof  that  our  bloated  Empire  does  not 
rest  on  adequate  strength  in  soldiers  at  home.  I  have 
said  this  for  years  and  years  till  I  am  hoarse.    It  is  a 


236  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

house  of  cards — which  may  come  down  with  a  crash 
on  the  first  strain.  Now  this  check  is  in  itself  a  trifle 
and  all  the  circumstances  are  in  our  favour.  No  one 
can  help  the  Boers,  who  are  engulfed  in  the  Empire, 
no  Power  can  reach  them,  and  no  power  wants  to 
worry  us.  But  suppose  they  did  choose :  Whose 
would  the  Empire  be  then  ?  Read  the  history  of  the 
American  War  of  1776-82  in  Lecky  (or  anyone),  and 
think  what  would  happen — if — 

(a)  Russia    posted    a    corps    d'armee    over    against 

Afghanistan. 

(b)  France,  Russia,  Turkey  agreed  to  pass  two  army- 

corps  through  Armenia  and  Syria  upon  Egypt, 
and  said,  You  get  out  ! 

(c)  Kruger    asked   William   to    propose    peace,    on 

basis  of — 

1.  European  guarantee  of  the  two  Republics. 

2.  Cession  to  them  of  Kimberley  and  Rhodesia. 

Ah  !    if  only  Lord  S y  had  taken  up  the  matter, 

instead  of  J.  C.  We  are  all  sorry  for  him.  It  will  kill 
the  Queen. 

But  don't  let  us  make  too  much  of  these  mishaps. 
After  all,  no  British  force  has  been  defeated — only  it 
has  failed  to  cany  impregnable  fortresses — after 
wonderful  deeds  of  pluck  and  resolution.  Did  not  the 
Americans  in  Cuba  fail  again  and  again,  and  Russia 
in  the  Balkans  and  at  Plevna  ?  No  one  thought  that 
United  States  or  Russia  were  going  to  ruin.  It  is  the 
future  that  is  so  ominous.  If  we  were  to  be  dragged 
into  another  war  like  that  in  America  of  the  last 
century,  or  if  European  nations  were  to  agree  to  inter- 
fere. We  have  not  a  man  left  to  send  anywhere  else — 
if  Egypt,  India,  Malta,  or  Canada  were  threatened. 
The  Empire  is  a  bubble — a  house  of  cards. 

Well !  pray  come  and  see  us.  We  are  staying  in 
town  till  after  1  January.  Our  son  is  recovering  from 
typhoid,  and  our  girl  from  influenza,  and  my  wife  will 
have  to  take  them  to  Hastings  early  in  January.    At 


SOUTH  AFRICAN  WAR  237 

present  we  stay  at  home  and  groan.  As  to  Christmas, 
I  am  going  to  decree  it  to  be  a  day  of  humiliation  and 
fasting — no  plum  pudding  or  mince-pies.  Our  family 
are  to  dine  off  bread  and  water — dry  bread  and  water 
from  the  cistern — to  impress  upon  their  minds  that  this 
is  a  grave  crisis,  and  a  time  of  shame  and  mourning. 
Will  you  not  come  in  and  share  our  bread  and  water  ? 
My  son  in  Berlin  tells  me  that  the  best  German  Military 
judges  foretold  all  this  months  and  months  ago,  and 
they  kept  on  saying — "  You  cannot  beat  the  Boers 
with  your  present  and  intended  resources ;  it  is  a  far 
bigger  job  than  you  think." 

Well !  I  daresay  we  shall  "  worry  it  through  "  this 
time.  But  it  is  next  time  I  fear.  Pray  God  we  may  not 
live  to  see  that. 

I  am,  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Frederic  Harrison. 

The  campaign  dragged  wearily  on  till  at  last  people 
thought  it  would  never  really  end.  People  ceased  to 
take  any  keen  interest  in  the  tedious  guerilla  war- 
fare which  correspondents  described.  Writing  to  a 
friend  at  this  time  my  mother  said : 

"  The  war  seems  to  get  on  slowly — I  hope  surely — 
but  they  never  seem  to  kill  any  Boers,  and  if  you  chase 
them  from  Charles  Street  they  appear  in  Hill  Street." 

Once  all  real  danger  for  the  Empire  had  passed, 
public  enthusiasm  slackened.  The  feeling  in  England 
had  been  played  upon  so  long  that  the  whole  affair 
indeed  came  to  be  considered  a  colossal  bore,  and  the 
mind  was  focussed  upon  it  only  with  difficulty. 

In  August,  1902,  Mr.  Harrison,  in  a  letter  from  Elm 
Hill,  Hawkhurst,  wrote:  "We  know  nothing  of 
politics,  fashion,  or  gossip.  We  are  told  the  war  is  over.— 
Thank  God  !  And  they  do  say  the  King  has  been 
crowned  !— but  had  to  put  off  the  affair.  Is  that  so  ? 
We  know  nothing  in  these  wilds." 


238  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  writer  always  had  a  dread  of  Mr.  Chamberlain 
and  his  ideas.    Writing  in  1903,  he  said  : 

Oh,  that  Joe  !  the  most  fearful  demagogue  since 
Cleon  the  tanner.  If  he  does  win,  I  shall  turn  Socialist, 
and  republican,  and  go  for  a  clean  sweep  of  the  govern- 
ing classes  who  have  so  shamefully  misled  the  people. 
All  that  is  sound  and  reasonable  in  England  is  against 
Joe — all  that  is  rotten  and  unscrupulous  is  with  him. 
Those  are  my  sentiments  and  I  am, 

Yours  sincerely, 
Frederic  Harrison. 

In  spite  of  this  dread  Mr.  Harrison  could  admire 
Mr.  Chamberlain's  great  qualities  and  unbounded 
energy. 

"  Deeply  as  I  differ  from  his  new  schemes  "  (wrote 
he  in  March,  1904),  "  which  have  destroyed  Con- 
servatism as  a  principle  even  more  than  as  a  party, 
and  convinced  as  I  am  that  he  will  destroy  the  Empire 
and  ruin  England,  I  cannot  withhold  my  admiration 
from  the  amazing  physical  and  intellectual  energy  of 
his  public  work.  And  it  would  be  cruel  to  think  his 
powers  should  be  checked  by  mere  bodily  exhaustion. 
He  is  beyond  doubt  the  foremost  personality  in  politi- 
cal life.  And  in  the  strange  dearth  of  able  men  and 
strong  characters  everywhere,  it  would  be  a  national 
loss  to  see  the  most  prominent  bat  in  the  eleven 
'  retire  hurt.' 

"  We  were  at  Lady  Hayter's1  the  other  night  and 
saw  '  the  party,'  but  it  was  not  very  exuberant. 

"lam  sure  you  have  a  good  '  crossing  '  to-day,  and 
I  hope  you  will  arrive  at  Cannes  without  too  much 
fatigue  and  have  a  fine  spring.  Even  here  it  is  be- 
ginning to  be  less  savage  than  it  has  been  these  nine 
months  past. 

1  Now  Lady  Haversham. 


WALPOLIANA  239 

"I  do  not  return  Miss  C.'s  letter  as  you  say  not. 
I  have  burnt  it — a  nice  letter  from  a  nice  young 
lady. 

"  We  are  seeing  a  great  deal  of  our  friends,  and  are 
50  sorry  you  leave  London.  Mais  au  revoir  apres 
Pentecote. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 
"  (Sgd.)     Frederic  Harrison." 

When  away  visiting  at  country  houses,  Mr.  Harrison 
would  generally  let  my  mother  have  some  account  of 
what  he  had  been  doing. 

She  did  the  same.  After  a  visit  to  Houghton,  where 
to  her  great  delight  she  went  for  the  first  time  in  1904, 
she  sent  him  a  short  account  of  her  impressions,  to 
which  he  replied  : 

Elm  Hill. 

August  2,  1904. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

How  interesting  it  is  to  have  a  letter  from  a 
Walpole  dated  from  Houghton,  and  to  hear  the  latest 
account  of  the  condition  of  that  historic  house.  And 
what  a  pleasure  it  must  be  to  you  to  see  the  place 
again  and  to  find  it  in  good  condition.  I  am  full  of 
Walpoliana  (Horace  is  at  my  elbow  all  day  long),  but 
[  am  a  Pittite  now,  Chatham  is  my  man.  And  if  he 
tiad  not  gone  mad,  he  might  have  been  the  greatest 
ruler  England  ever  had. 

Yes  !  we  went  over  to  Bayham  the  other  day, 
Lovely  and  pathetic  spot ;  we  greatly  enjoyed  the  peace 
and  quiet  of  it,  which  we  had  through  your  kindness 
and  Lady  Camden's  courtesy.  Mr.  Cleeve,  her  agent, 
gave  us  every  facility  for  a  pleasant  visit.  We  roamed 
about  the  ruins — I  gave  them  a  lecture  on  thirteenth- 
century  Gothic — and  my  daughter  took  photos.  We 
have  been  very  much  round  that  district  lately — to 
Scotney  Castle,  to  the  Morlands,  and  to  the  Priory  at 
Lamberhurst,  which  Sir  John  Blunt  has  taken.     We 


240  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

thought  it  too  low  and  damp  in  winter  and  refused 
it  after  two  visits.  We  are  having  rounds  of  garden 
parties,  tennis,  etc.  All  our  four  sons  and  our  daughter 
are  all  here  now — Bernard  painting,  and  Rene  is  going 
to  rebuild  an  old  house  in  Ireland.  We  have  just  met 
Lord  and  Lady  H.  at  the  Hardcastles,  but  they  do  not 
seem  to  care  to  see  much  of  the  Hawkhurst  colonials, 
and  we  never  meet  them  about.  "  Joseph  is  done  " — 
as  Countess  Tolstoi1  used  to  say  in  1886 — only  she 
was  a  little  "  previous."  He  was  not  done  then,  and 
will  not  be  done  till  1905 — but  then  he  will  fall  like 
Lucifer,  who  seems  to  be  the  only  God  he  recognizes. 
I  think  the  Harmsworths  are  doing  Sutton  very  well 
and  improving  it.  Did  you  see  my  brother's  new 
fifteenth-century  Bavarian  house,  next  to  G.  Balfour's 
at  Mayford  ?    He  is  now  in  Wales  at  a  "  cure." 

Are  you  going  to  see  Mrs.  Roundell's  great  book 
on  Ham  House  and  the  Tollemaches  ?     It  is  just  out. 

Hoping  to  see  you  here  soon, 

I  am, 

Yours  sincerely, 

F.  Harrison. 

In  the  same  year  Mr.  Harrison  during  a  visit  to 
Scotland  sent  the  following  letter  from  the  Highland 
stronghold  of  that  curiously  minded  benefactor  of 
humanity — Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie. 

Skibo  Castle, 

Dornoch, 

Sutherland. 

Wednesday,  17  Sept. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Your  letter  from  Actalader  has  followed  me  up 
here.*  I  too  am  in  the  Highlands,  and  in  spite  of  the 
gales  and  showers,  it  is  a  typical  Scotch  autumn  and 

1  Lady  Weardale. 


MR.  ANDREW  CARNEGIE  241 

very  bracing  and  enjoyable.  The  storm-clouds  over 
the  mountains  make  magnificent  landscapes,  and  we 
are  on  the  sea  and  have  constant  cruises.  Yesterday 
we  took  the  "  lairds  "  sea  breeze  out  to  the  Ness 
point  and  there  met  the  Erin,  the  grand  steam  yacht 
of  Sir  Thomas  Lipton,  who  is  a  guest  here.  We  were 
transferred  in  a  launch  and  in  a  squall  to  the  Erin — 
a  noble  ship  of  1400  tons,  a  floating  palace.  Sir  T. 
gave  us  a  royal  luncheon  served  by  Cingalese  waiters 
in  white  frocks  and  long  black  back  hair  like  a  woman's. 
There  we  landed  at  Dunrobin  and  enjoyed  the  mag- 
nificent gardens  and  terraces  like  a  villa  round  Florence 
— only  intensely  green  and  luscious.  The  D.  and 
Duchess  were  away  at  Loch  Awe.  Both  at  Dunrobin 
and  at  Skibo  the  ancient  gardens  are  in  perfection  of 
bloom — not  a  sign  of  autumn,  nor  a  brown  leaf,  nor 
a  nipped  blossom.  This  is  a  royal  place.  I  believe 
H.M.  would  like  to  swop  Balmoral  for  it.  We  have 
a  large  party  of  Principals,  Provosts,  and  Professors 
from  St.  Andrews  University  of  which  our  host  is  to 
serve  this  year  as  Lord  Rector  !  He  is  a  real  genius, 
full  of  knowledge,  keenness,  and  sympathy  with  all 
good  things  and  good  men  and  women.  They  are 
making  me  learn  golf  in  my  old  age.  Choate  and  John 
Morley  have  just  left — not  to  speak  of  H.M.,  who  was 
charming  when  here.  But  I  did  not  meet  any  of  them. 
We  have  all  been  in  the  new  swimming  bath,  a  sort 
of  Winter  Garden  with  a  marble  bath  of  warm  sea- 
water — men  and  women  all  tumbling  about  like  seals 
in  the  American  fashion.  Margarie  Carnegie,  aged 
five;  is  a  capital  swimmer.  My  wife  was  not  able  to 
travel.  She  is"  well,  but  is  not  allowed  to  drive  out. 
Bernard  is  painting  in  Assisi,  and  Austin  has  been  fol- 
lowing the  Kaiser  at  the  manoeuvres.  I  am  going  ba 
via  Caledonian  Canal,  Oban,  and  the  Clyde,  and  may 
drop  in  on  the  Crackanthorpes  at  Penrith.  Pray  let 
us  know  when  you  can  come  to  Elm  Hill. 

Yours  sincerely, 
(Sgd.)     Frederic  Harrison. 
16 


242  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

A  month  later  came  the  following  : 

Elm  Hill, 

Hawkhurst. 

18  October,  1904. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Was  there  ever  anything  so  vexatious  as  our 
having  missed  you  on  your  visit  to  Lilliesden  ?  We 
went  there  to  find  you  the  very  day  of  your  arrival, 
and  were  only  an  hour  or  so  too  early.  Then  I  started 
for  the  Highlands,  had  a  pleasant  visit  at  Skibo — 
yachting  on  the  coast — golf — agreeable  party.  Lord 
and  Lady  Carnegie  whom  you  may  know,  Sir  Walter 
Forster,  etc.  Thence  I  crossed  to  the  West  Coast, 
Lochalsh,  Skye,  and  paid  a  visit  to  Sir  Kenelm  and 
Lady  Digby  on  Loch  Daich.  I  was  there  the  day  the 
King  passed  down.  He  was  received  by  the  Digbys 
and  took  boat  at  their  pier  and  was  very  gracious. 
The  Highlanders  are  all  for  the  King  !  and  have 
given  up  Prince  Charlie,  who  was  a  dreadful  black- 
guard. 

My  wife  and  I  are  quite  solitary  now — four  sons 
and  the  daughter  all  gone  off.  Bernard  painting  in 
Venice  and  Olive  at  School  at  Wimbledon.  I  am  half 
through  my  Chatham.  He  was  the  greatest  man  we 
ever  had,  and  Horace  Walpole  is  the  best  memoir- 
writer  that  ever  lived.  I  live  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury— powder — rats — scandal  and  eloquence.  How 
I  should  like  to  see  Houghton.  But  I  hope  you  are 
reading  my  Theophano.  One  of  the  critics  to-day  tells 
me  it  should  be  compared  with  Scott.  But  that  is 
only  a  birthday  compliment,  and  overdone  at  that.  To- 
day I  am  seventy-three  !  At  least  ten  years  older  than 
you  are — in  fact — whatever  the  nasty  Peerages  may 
say  !  But  our  good  lives  and  our  happy  times  have 
quite  abolished  Anno  Domini.  No  one  is  old  now  till 
he  or  she  reaches  ninety,  and,  even  then,  they  are 
often  jolly  like  Lord  Cranbrook.  Bless  me,  at  seventy- 
three,  I  feel  in  the  prime  of  life !   and  I  am  sure  at  sixty- 


MISS  VIOLA  TREE  243 

three  you  do  also.  All  that  seventy-three  means  to  me 
is  to  think  more  kindly  of  my  old  friends — and  I  do 
beg  you  to  let  me  have  the  honour  so  to  call  myself 
and  to  wish  you  many  happy  returns  of  your  own 
birthday  when  it  comes. 

Most  sincerely  yours, 

(Sgd.)     Frederic  Harrison. 

Have  you  seen  The  Tempest?  Tree's  Caliban  and 
Viola  Tree's  Ariel  are  really  excellent — poetic — artistic. 

Whenever  anything  of  interest  occurred  Mr.  Harrison 
let  my  mother  know. 

On  the  7th  December,  1904,  for  instance,  he  wrote  : 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  Chronicle  has  been  saying 
of  me.  A  man  came  down  here  on  Saturday  and  talked 
for  an  hour.  I  hope  he  did  not  make  me  say  anything 
very  foolish.  I  forgot  it  was  an  '  interview,'  as  the 
man  talked  freely  to  me.  As  to  education,  I  am 
against  all  education.  It  makes  women  conceited  and 
unkind.    And  it  makes  men  dull  and  pedantic. 

"  My  Chatham  is  three-fourths  printed  and  will  be 
issued  first  week  in  February,  1905,  if  I  live  till  then. 
I  have  retired  from  the  Presidency  of  the  Positivist 
Committee  and  shall  not  give  my  annual  address.  It 
will  be  in  the  January  number  of  the  Fortnightly 
Review  and  is  gone  to  the  printer.  You  will  see  that 
I  am  quite  impartial.  I  honour  the  King,  applaud 
Lord  Lansdowne  ;  but  as  to  Conservatives  and 
Liberals  I  complain  of  them  both.  And  I  have  very 
little  hope  of  a  Liberal  Government  doing  good.  I 
wish  the  King  would  shut  up  the  House  of  Commons, 
like  Cromwell,  and  govern  the  country  with  the  aid 
of  a  few  sensible  men — such  as  Spencer  Walpole, 
Mr.  Gould — and  me.  We  would  put  an  end  to  this 
nonsense.  Oh  !  if  there  were  only  a  '  Chatham  '  now. 
He  was  a  grand  man.     England  had  no  finer." 

At  the  end  of  the  Unionists'  tenure  of  office  in  1906 


244  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Mr.   Harrison   denounced  the   outgoing  Government 
with  great  vehemence. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  worst  governments  of  the  century 
— this  of  Balfour's — weak,  capricious,  foolish,  vexa- 
tious, clerical,  reactionary  in  a  silly  way — like  Arch- 
bishop Laud. 

"They  are  a  set  of  incapable  la-di-da  'swells,'  who 
being  very  well  done  in  their  own  homes,  and  having 
everything  men  can  want — and  more  too — are  playing 
at  government  in  a  lazy,  insolent  way,  doing  jobs  for 
their  friends,  and  airing  their  contempt  for  the  common 
people — and  with  all  this  quite  indifferent  to  being 
dismissed  with  disgrace.  If  they  were  turned  out 
to-morrow  Balfour  would  drop  a  few  smart  epigrams, 
and  take  to  golf  and  Scotch  Metaphysics  with  glee. 
But  they  will  not  go  yet.  For  bad  as  they  are,  the 
Opposition  is  hardly  better  and  is  occupied  chiefly 
in  checkmating  each  other.  They  might  rally  under 
Lord  Spencer,  the  most  honest  man  of  the  lot,  Rose- 
bery  at  Foreign  Office,  C.-B.  in  the  Lords,  and  Asquith 
Leader  C.  But  that  is  not  possible.  If  there  were  an 
election  this  year,  the  Tories  would  still  have  a  work- 
ing majority.    The  nation  has  been  debauched." 

On  the  thirty-eighth  anniversary  of  Mr.  Harrison's 
wedding-day  my  mother  wrote  a  note  of  congratula- 
tion, and  received  the  following  in  reply  : 

Elm  Hill, 
Hawkhurst. 

17  August,  1908. 
(Our  38th  Wedding  Day.     Hurrah  !) 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

How  can  I  thank  you  enough  for  writing  such 
a  nice  interesting  letter  on  this  "  the  merriest  day  of 
all  the  glad  new  year  "—to  us?  I  was  designing  to 
write  to  you  but  I  did  not  know  where  you  might  be 
or  how  you  would  care  for  family  news  from  us — for 


ANTI-SUFFRAGE  LEAGUE  245 

I  have  no  other.  Bernard,  our  painter  son,  is  estab- 
lished with  another  painter  in  a  curious  old  fifteenth- 
century  Castello  on  the  hill  near  Florence,  painting 
a  big  picture  of  Valdarno.  Austin  is  sailing  to  the 
North  Cape  to  see  the  Midnight  Sun.  The  architect  is 
with  the  Leigh  Whites,  yachting  in  Bantry  Bay.  And 
one  son  and  daughter  are  touring  Kent  and  Sussex  in 
Tennis  Tournaments  and  carrying  off  prizes.  My  wife 
is  rousing  Kent  to  resist  these  crazy  women.  Here 
is  the  report  of  our  meeting  last  week  in  this  house 
and  my  wife's  speech.  She  goes  to-day  to  address  a 
tradesmen  and  farmers'  wives'  meeting  at  old  Mrs. 
Hardcastle's,  and  to-morrow  another  at  Gorehurst  at 
Mrs.  Sumner  Gibson's.  I  assure  you  Kent  is  solid  against 
this  dangerous  revolution.  But  the  central  League 
in  Victoria  Street  is  not  active  enough.  Pray  urge 
Lady  Haversham  to  stir  them  up  to  organize  local 
committees  and  meetings  in  the  country  during  the 
autumn,  and  send  her  the  local  paper. 

I  have  finally  signed  the  last  sheets  of  my  new  book 
which  will  be  out  in  October,  Realities  and  Ideals.  We 
talked  of  all  going  abroad,  but  my  wife  will  not  leave 
home  now  and  is  quite  a  Mrs.  Pankhurst,  on  the  other 
side.  We  have  had  pleasant  visits  to  the  Eversleys  at 
Winchester  for  the  pageant,  to  my  brother  at  Mayford 
and  saw  Sutton  again,  and  since  to  Losely,  which  is 
more  beautiful  than  ever,  now  in  possession  of  General 
Palmer,  whose  daughter  married  Leo  Myers,  nephew 
of  Lady  (Henry)  Stanley,  nee  Tennant  you  know. 
The  Myers  and  Stanleys  were  all  there.  Miss  Dodge, 
an  American  millionaire  lady,  was  tenant,  and  has 
done  much  to  improve  the  garden,  which  now  is  per- 
fect. I  fear  there  is  no  prospect  of  your  coming  into 
Kent,  is  there  ? 

With  all  kind  wishes, 
I  am, 
Always  sincerely  yours, 

(Sgd.)     Frederic  Harrison. 


246  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

As  the  years  rolled  on  Mr.  Harrison  came  less  and 
less  to  London ;  when  he  did  come,  however,  he  never 
failed  to  pay  my  mother  a  visit.  Having  unfortu- 
nately missed  her  once  or  twice  he  wrote  : 

The  Athenaeum, 

Pall  Mall,  S.W. 

Thursday,  Jan.  n,  1912. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

You  must  admit  that  I  make  heroic  efforts  to 
see  you  whenever  I  have  to  be  "  in  town  " — an  expres- 
sion which  Lady  Grove  says  is  vulgar — is  it — you 
know  !  I  never  come  to  London  unless  I  am  called 
up  to  this  foggy  Inferno  by  duty.  Yesterday  there 
was  a  big  Town  Rating  Case  on  Appeal  to  Kent 
Quarter  Sessions  on  which  I  was  summoned  as  legal 
assessor,  and  I  took  the  opportunity  of  taking  my  son 
to  hear  Viola  Tree  as  Eurydice — she  will  make  a 
singer  and  she  is  already  an  actress.  And  now  after 
luncheon  I  go  back  home  to  the  only  peaceful  retreat 
in  the  British  Islands.  But  before  I  leave  I  come  to 
"  sit  darna  "  as  the  Hindoos  do,  on  your  doorstep. 
But  I  want  to  know  if  there  is  any  hope  of  being  able  to 
find  you  at  home  any  hour  and  one  day  between  22-27 
inst.  We  come  up  on  Monday,  22nd,  to  attend  the 
wedding  of  our  nephew — Captain  Cecil  Harrison,  of  the 
Rifles,  who  is  to  marry  Miss  Woodhouse  on  Tuesday, 
23rd.  As  he  is  a  Catholic  the  wedding  is  at  the 
Oratory,  Brompton  (how  strange  that  my  eldest  son  and 
my  brother's  eldest  son  should  be  Papists  !).  We  shall 
be  staying  most  of  that  week  with  Lady  Harriet 
Harrison  at  Lennox  Gardens — she  is  the  widow  of 
another  of  my  brothers — late  M.P.  for  Plymouth. 
Perhaps  if  you  are  in  London  that  week  I  may  hope 
to  find  you  at  home. 

I  hope  you  read  the  English  Review  at  1/-  and  are 
not  bored  by  my  talk  about  Greek  and  Latin  books. 
I  am  coming  to  poetry  and  modern  books  in  the  fol- 


PROPHECIES  247 

lowing  articles  which  will  go  on  until  Easter.  My  wife 
does  not  feel  able  to  face  London  this  winter,  except 
for  occasional  visits,  and  we  remain  at  Hawkhurst  at 
any  rate  till  March. 

Yours  devotedly, 

Frederic  Harrison. 

P.S. — I  reserve  for  Postscript  my  political  forecast. 
It  is  enough  to  frighten  you.  By  Easter,  a  general 
Strike  will  take  place.  Railways  stopped — coal  in- 
accessible— battleships  stranded  in  port  for  want  of 
fuel.  Desperate  efforts  to  work  mines,  railways,  and 
factories — resisted  by  workmen.  Troops  called  out — 
Civil  War — Riots — houses  sacked — Territorials  join 
Strikers.  Troops  overpowered — chaos  in  England — 
Wales  declares  a  Republic — Lloyd  George,  President. 
Ireland  ditto — Redmond,  President.  Germany  Army 
marches  straight  for  Paris.  Belgium  and  Holland 
made  subject.  French  Civil  War — Troops  fight  each 
other — hasty  peace,  Germany  to  annex  Belgium  (with 
option  of  Burgundy,  Holland),  Picardy,  Normandy  to 
the  Seine  and  Algeria.  German1  new  gun  at  Calais 
to  bombard  Dover.     F.  H.  commits  suicide  in  horror. 

In  another  letter  which  followed  about  a  month 
later  Mr.  Harrison  made  a  very  notable  prophecy 
which  has  been  only  too  amply  fulfilled. 

Elm  Hill, 
Hawkhurst. 
April  7,  1912. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  am  very  glad  to  hear  of  you  in  these  troubled 
times — have  you,  in  your  long  life  and  great  experience 
of  the  political  world,  ever  known  a  more  exciting 
epoch  ?  I  see  no  prospect  of  my  coming  to  that 
horrible  city  this  summer — I  don't  think  I  shall  ever 

A  prophecy  which  has  now  come  within  the  realm  of  possibilities. 


248  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

see  it  again — and  not  even  the  invitation  you  so 
kindly  propose  will  tempt  me  to  leave  the  peace  of 
our  weald.  I  have  never  known  a  more  delicious 
spring.  Our  grounds  are  a  picture  of  various  flowers — 
narcissi  in  acres,  hyacinths  of  every  hue,  tulips, 
azaleas,  rhododendrons  (early  crimson),  along  with 
primroses  and  all  the  herbaceous  plants  of  April  and 
May  !  The  orchards  a  bloom  of  peach,  plum,  pear, 
and  the  air  resounding  with  blackbirds,  finches,  larks, 
and  the  cooing  of  our  white  fantails  who  follow  me 
about  like  a  dog.  With  all  these  delights  and  my 
books,  I  want  no  more  society — and  no  smoky  town. 
I  am  still  at  work  with  my  two  series,  the  first  on 
"  Books,"  the  second  on  various  "  Religions."  Both 
I  hope  to  publish  in  October  (D.V.)  when  I  enter  my 
82nd  year — and  indeed  whether  I  live  to  see  them 
published  or  not — for  both  are  all  but  ready.  I  am 
really  not  so  grumpy  as  Mr.  Strang  makes  me  look 
in  this  month's  English  Review — indeed  I  am  quite 
well,  and  hugely  enjoying  my  walks  in  these  meadows 
and  woods.  But  my  wife  has  been  far  from  strong, 
and  has  been  laid  up  for  some  weeks  with  a  bronchial 
attack  and  perhaps  spurious  influenza.  She  and  I 
are  much  disgusted  by  the  idea  of  reissuing  Sir  Alm- 
roth's  Letter  by  the  League.  We  cannot  believe  it 
was  done  with  authority.  Dr.  Wright  may  have  some 
pathological  ground  for  his  views — but  he  outrageously 
exaggerates  them,  and  tries  to  generalize  from  morbid 
cases.  My  essay,  Votes  for  Women — which  is  a  6d. 
pamphlet  of  the  League — states  the  truth — that  the 
bar  to  political  rights  for  women  rests  in  the  noble, 
emotional,  and  personal  way  in  which  average  women 
decide  difficult  problems  of  State  without  sufficient 
balance  of  judgment.  I  trust  I  may  not  live  to  see 
it — but  one  day  women  will  ruin  the  Empire. 

As  to  this  Coal  Crisis,  I  am  still  most  anxious.  Do 
you  remember  how  I  wrote  to  you  two  months  ago 
that  it  was  going  to  be  a  long  and  critical  struggle  ? 
We  shall  be  lucky  if  we  do  not  meet  worse  things  than 


THE  GERMAN  MENACE  249 

any  yet  suffered  between  this  and  next  Christmas. 
But  the  German  peril  is  even  more  serious  than  Syndi- 
calism, for  General  Bernhardi  represents  the  real 
controlling  power  of  Germany,  and  the  Kaiser  is  their 
figure-head  not  their  master.  When  we  were  in  London 
we  dined  with  Morley  and  met  the  Editor  of  the  West- 
minster and  a  Junior  Member  of  the  Government  and 
discussed  the  Coal  Strike  for  hours.  Morley  told  us 
that  Asquith  and  the  optimists  in  the  Cabinet  believed 
the  strike  would  not  last  a  week — the  Junior  Minister 
was  even  more  confident  and  contemptuous  of  the 
miners  and  the  Labour  leaders  in  and  out  of  Parlia- 
ment. The  Editor  and  I  warned  M.  (who  expressed 
no  opinion  of  his  own)  that  it  would  be  a  long  and 
anxious  struggle  and  might  have  far-reaching  conse- 
quences and  evil  days.  I  urged  on  M.  then,  as  I  had 
done  before,  that  violence  and  riot  were  almost  inevit- 
able, and  that  if  the  Government  were  forced  to  use 
arms,  as  they  must,  and  blood  was  shed  in  many 
places,  it  would  be  the  end  of  Liberalism  for  a  genera- 
tion, and  would  probably  land  us  in  some  kind  of 
Dictatorial  Government  to  save  Society  and  the 
Empire.  Even  now,  I  think  that  far  from  improbable 
though  I  am  happy  to  think  I  am  too  old  to  see  it. 
To-day's  news  of  the  return  to  work  is  hopeful — but 
I  fear  there  may  be  a  great  deal  of  trouble  still  when 
the  Boards  have  made  their  awards — and  even  if  the 
miners  work  on  steadily,  I  fear  the  railway  men  will 
begin  in  the  summer  again.  Altogether  things  are 
very  ugly — and  those  who  have  anything  to  lose  are 
likely  to'  be  on  the  "  down  grade  '  for  a  generation. 
And  Father  Abraham  says  to  us,  as  he  said  to  Dives, 
"  Thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy  good  things." 
Yes  !  we  have  received  good  things,  and  I  for  one  am 
content  and  say,  "Lord,  now  lettest  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace  I  "  It  is  Easter  Sunday  and  I  feel 
most  devout  and  at  peace  with  all  men  and  also  in 
affectionate  remembrance  of  yourself,  dear  Lady. 

Frederic  Harrison. 


250  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Dear  Mr.  Harrison  [wrote  she  in  reply], 

I  have  been  wishing  to  write  and  know  all 
about  you  but  I  do  think  the  coal  strike  has  enfeebled 
the  little  mind  I  had — in  fact,  I  think  all  of  us 
are  being  trampled  on  by  all  the  horrors  which  are 
before  us,  omitting  all  those  we  have  already  passed 
through. 

Sunday.  At  last  we  are  more  or  less  at  peace,  but 
with  this  Government,  who  knows  how  all  will  end. 
The  other  day  I  met  that  charming  man,  Lord  Morley, 
and  he  said  he  would  with  pleasure  lunch  with  us  one 
day,  but  the  difficulty  is,  who  can  we  get  to  meet  him  ? 
I  feel  I  have  but  one  stick  to  lean  on,  and  that  is  your- 
self, so  will  you  give  just  a  hint  as  to  a  remote  chance 
of  when  you  are  coming  up  ? 

Throughout  this  year  my  mother  continued  to  send 
Mr.  Harrison  her  usual  scrappy  letters.  In  reply  to 
one  of  these  he  wrote  on  August  31st  : 

Elm  Hill, 

Hawkhurst. 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

What  a  pleasure  to  see  your  handwriting  again 
and  to  know  that  you  are  not  overcome  by  this  cruel 
weather,  and  all  that  we  have  to  bear  in  the  world  ! 
You  are  a  marvel.  I  see  that  you  are  bringing  out  a 
new  volume  of  Memoirs — a  delightful  treat  to  look 
forward  to. 

My  wife  is  slowly  recovering  and  can  at  last  walk 
about  the  house,  and  occasionally  (if  there  is  any  sun) 
drive  out.  She  has  been  an  invalid  since  early  in  May 
and  she  will  hardly  be  quite  free  from  medical  care  till 
Xmas.  I  had  intended  to  go  to  Chamounix  to  have 
a  last  look  at  Mont  Blanc,  but  I  could  not  leave  her 
until  this  month. 

I  have  been  in  the  West  down  at  Bath,  which  I 
think  the  most  beautiful  and  lovable  city  in  all  Eng- 


BATH  251 

land,  and  if  I  were  now  in  the  eighteenth  century,  I 
should  go  and  live  there.  I  found  some  friends,  and 
I  went  to  a  party  in  the  beautiful  house  built  for  and 
occupied  by  Lord  Chatham,  in  which  Lord  Rosebery 
put  a  tablet.  I  saw  some  other  of  Wood's  houses  in 
1760,  and  wondered  why  in  London  we  submit  to 
live  in  builders'  barracks — not  that  45  is  such — but 
all  South  Kensington  is.  I  went  over  to  visit  General 
Inigo  Jones  of  Kelston  Park — which  has  the  finest 
elms  in  England.  Do  you  know  Kelston  ?  I  went  on 
to  the  Bristol  Channel  which  is  horrid,  but  the  rain 
stopped  me  from  visiting  Sherborne,  Dorset,  and 
Devon.  Altogether  the  rain  has  not  much  troubled 
me.  We  got  our  hay  in  in  June,  and  the  roses  are  still 
splendid.  In  spite  of  rain,  our  daughter  has  managed 
to  win  a  lot  of  tennis  club  prizes.  Bernard  is  painting 
at  Santa  Margarita — Ligure.  I  am  very  well  and 
very  busy,  have  been  passing  proofs  of  two  books — 
one  on  Literature  and  one  on  Religion.  If  I  ever 
come  to  London  again,  I  shall  try  to  find  you.  But  at 
present  I  am  fixed  at  Hawkhurst — which  in  spite  of 
showers  is  fresh  and  pleasant  enough. 
With  all  good  wishes  for  you, 
I  am, 

Your  ever  devoted  servant, 

F.  Harrison. 


About  this  time  my  mother  began  to  weaken,  which 
no  doubt  affected  her  wonderful  spirits. 
Writing  to  Mr.  Harrison  she  said  : 

"  The  only  merit  I  still  possess  is  my  silence  :  I 
have  written  to  no  one — and  I  don't  know  why  I 
write  to  you,  but  the  spirit  has  moved  me  to  do  so. 
But  will  you  have  patience  to  go  through  my  hiero- 
glyphics?   I  fear  not." 

Again  in  November  when  staying  with  Lord  and 


252  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Lady  Mount-Stephen  at  Brocket  Hall,  Hatfield,  she 
wrote  : 

My  dear  Mr.  Harrison, 

My  faculties  have  been  so  numbed  lately  that 
I  have  written  no  letters,  in  fact  everything  seems 
going  so  cross  it  leaves  me  with  nothing  to  say.  I 
am  here  with  my  kind  friends  just  for  the  week-end 
visit,  and  so  thought  I  must  write  one  line  to  ask  after 
you  both.  You  will  have  plenty  to  say  on  the  present 
state  of  things,  and  I  long  to  hear  some  of  your  ex- 
periences. What  is  to  happen  ?  We  have  had  a  sad 
loss  in  Mr.  Monypenny's  death.  He  used  often  to 
come  and  see  us,  and  it  now  appears  to  me  as  if  we 
had  lost  the  last  link  which  bound  me  to  the  memory 
of  Lord  Beaconsfield.  Poor  Mr.  Monypenny,  just 
before  he  died,  sent  me  the  last  volume  published  of 
the  great  statesman.  It  only  goes  to  1848,  so  there 
are  still  two  more  volumes  to  complete  the  life.  No 
one  knows  who  can  finish  it. 

Lord  Roberts  is  staying  here  and  he  is  most  anxious 
to  meet  you.  Can  you  by  any  fair  or  unfair  means 
let  me  really  know  if  there  is  any  chance  of  your 
coming  up  to  London  at  any  time  so  that  I  might  get 
you  to  meet  at  luncheon  ?  I  return  to  45  Charles  Street 
to-morrow,  so  do  direct  there,  and  I  do  so  hope  to  see 
you  soon. 

Yours  ever, 

D.  Nevill. 


CHAPTER   X 

The  2nd  Lord  Lytton — Letters — Trial  of  dynamiters — Sir  Clare 
Ford — Ouida — Edward  VII — Letters — Taste  in  books — A  ridiculous 
rumour — George  V — Queen  Victoria  at  Grasse — The  eruptions  of  Mont 
Pelee — Political  excitement  at  Tangier — Herr  von  Kuhlmann  in  1905 
— Letter  from  Sir  Henry  Brackenbury  in  India — The  tactless  Smart 
Set — Lord  Curzon  as  Viceroy — Japan  and  Russia — Sir  Henry  Cole — 
A  letter  from  America — Edward  Cazalet. 

MY    mother's    recollections    of    diplomatists 
naturally  extended  over  a  considerable  period 
of  time. 
She  had  known  Lord  Stratford  de  Redcliffe,  who  in 
his  old  age  used  to  send  her  little  poems. 

It  was  the  inexorable  will  of  this  Ambassador  of  the 
past  which  rendered  him  such  a  real  power,  and  en- 
abled him  to  baffle  the  intrigues  of  wily  Pashas  and 
Vizirs.  He  practically  controlled  the  Sultan,  whom  he 
caused  to  defy  the  Czar,  and,  when  the  moment 
arrived,  saying  to  the  Government  at  home,  "  You 
must  go  to  war  now,"  brought  about  the  campaign  in 
the  Crimea.  The  last  representatives  of  this  school  of 
great  English  ambassadors,  to  which  the  "  Great 
Elchi,"  as  he  was  called,  belonged,  were  Sir  William 
White  and  Sir  Robert  Morier. 

Lords  Dufferin  and  Lytton  wrote  frequently  to  my 
mother  from  their  posts  abroad,  portions  of  this 
correspondence  having  been  printed  in  her  Reminis- 
cences. 

Lord  Dufferin,  she  used  to  say,  had  the  most  delight- 
ful manners  of  any  man  she  had  ever  known  ;  she 
was  also  a  great  admirer  of  his  wife,  and  her  sister, 
Lady    Carnock,   married    to    another    diplomatist    of 

note. 

253 


254  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

She  had  stayed  at  Knebworth  with  the  first  Lord 
Lytton,  and  in  the  early  seventies  of  the  last  century 
formed  a  great  friendship  with  his  son. 

Writing  from  Paris  at  that  time,  she  said  : 

"  We  dined  at  Lord  Lytton's,  and  tho'  I  had  never 
seen  him  before  he  was  so  pleasant,  I  seemed  to  have 
known  him  for  ever,  and  when  I  bade  him  goodnight, 
he  said,  '  I  cannot  pay  you  a  higher  compliment  than 
to  say  you  are  your  brother  in  petticoats,'  at  which  I 
was  well  pleased — for  there  are  few  like  my  dear 
Orford." 

The  2nd  Lord  Lytton,  besides  being  a  clever  man, 
had  an  essential  genius  for  friendship,  and  from 
wherever  he  went  wrote  most  interesting  letters. 

When  one  comes  to  think  of  the  weighty  duties  he 
had  to  perform  during  his  distinguished  diplomatic 
career,  his  untiring  energy  as  a  brilliant  correspondent 
seems  quite  astonishing. 

Gifted  with  a  fluent  pen,  a  literary  rather  than  a 
diplomatic  career  would,  it  is  said,  have  been  the 
profession  he  would  have  chosen  ;  but  his  father,  who 
did  not  believe  that  two  of  the  same  name  could 
achieve  a  permanent  reputation  in  literature,  caused 
him  to  enter  Diplomacy.  Nevertheless,  under  the 
name  of  Owen  Meredith  he  achieved  a  certain  poetic 
success,  while  much  of  his  correspondence  is  in  itself 
literature. 

The  experience  he  had  gained  and  the  many  variable 
and  interesting  scenes  through  which  he  had  passed, 
combined  with  a  comprehensive  understanding  and 
an  enlarged  knowledge  of  mankind,  had  taught  him  to 
judge  men  and  things  with  much  accuracy ;  and 
whether  describing  his  experiences  or  gently  castigat- 
ing the  foibles  of  the  giddy  great,  what  he  wrote  was 
always  clever  and  interesting. 

Writing  on  December  13th,  1881,  from  Hatfield, 
Lord  Lytton  said  : — 


LETTERS  255 

Hatfield. 

13  Dec,  1881. 

Alas  !  alas,  dear  Lady  Dorothy,  you  will  attribute 
to  me  a  monopoly  of  the  brutality  common  to  my 
fallen  sex  ever  since  Original  Sin  ceased  to  be  original. 
But  indeed  I  am  not  quite  such  a  brute  as  I  must  have 
seemed  to  you  ever  since  the  date  of  your  angelic 
letter,  which  I  only  received  late  last  night  on  my 
arrival  here.  It  seems  to  have  had  nearly  as  many 
adventures  as  the  young  lady  in  Boccaccio,  and,  like 
her,  it  has  lost  none  of  its  charm  in  the  course  of  them. 
I  left  Blenheim  with  Lady  Lytton  on  Friday,  intending 
to  pass  only  one  night  in  town,  and  had  arranged  that 
all  my  letters  should  be  forwarded  both  from  Blenheim 
and  Knebworth  to  Hatfield.  But  we  were  detained  in 
London  by  a  "  call  "  to  meet  the  Prince  and  Princess 
at  the  Lonsdales' ;  and  when,  amidst  a  pile  of  others, 
I  found  your  delightful  letter,  waiting  here,  last 
Monday  evening,  I  felt,  believe  me,  as  soul-stricken  as 
the  cock  who  went  out  and  wept  bitterly  when  Peter 
crew  thrice. 

I  see  that  I  am  writing  this  the  very  day  you  will  be 
going  to  Strathfieldsaye — and  thither  my  soul  follows 
you  in  the  saddest  of  moral  sackcloth  and  ashes. 
When  shall  you  be  again  in  town  ?  We  return  to 
Knebworth  at  the  end  of  this  week,  and  there  I  shall 
be  up  to  my  chin  in  bricks  and  mortar.  I  daresay  for 
the  rest  of  the  year.  But  if  you  are  as  good  as  you  are 
clever  you  will  let  me  know  when  I  may  hope  to  find  in 
Charles  St.  clover  and  forgiveness.  I  have  got  out  of 
my  speechifying  engagement  at  York  ;  but  have  two 
others  for  next  month  which  are  already  poisoning  my 
existence.  I  think  it  is  the  impression  here  that  the 
Ministry  will  scarcely  pull  through  next  Session.  But 
Heaven,  or  its  Antipodes,  only  knows  what  they  will 
pull  down  with  them  before  they  fall  themselves.  I 
am  told  that  "  the  man  of  sin  "  is  in  the  highest  possible 
spirits.  The  Lonsdale  dinner  was  a  dinner  of  Beauties. 
Our  hostess,  the  Princess,  Lady  Dudley  and  the  beaux 


256  LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 

testes  of  the  Duchess  of  Manchester.  I  afterwards 
learned  that  Her  Grace's  devoted  servant  Lord 
Hartington  was  very  shy  of  meeting  me,  and  begged 
Oliver  Montagu  to  arrange  that  we  should  not  find 
ourselves  together  after  the  ladies  left  the  room. 
Conscience  makes  cowards  of  us  all.  But  as  my 
withers  were  unwrung,  I  saw  no  reason  for  avoiding 
him,  and  our  meeting  was  delightfully  amicable  : 
though  I  suppose  that  a  few  weeks  hence  we  shall  be 
disputing  the  veracity  of  each  other's  opinions  for  the 
edification  of  an  enlightened  public.  Really,  the 
political  world  in  this  Country  had  become  a  perfect 
Pandemonium.  After  dinner  we  were  all  taken  to 
admire  Lady  L.'s  new  bed,  and  new  baby.  They 
appeared  to  be  objects  of  general  interest. 

Our  guests  here  are  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Norfolk,  Lord  Fitz  Hardinge,  and  Miss  Palmer,  and  her 
brother,  who  has  just  taken  a  double  first  at  Oxford. 
The  Lathoms  are  here  also,  and  half  the  County  is  now 
dancing  in  the  Gallery,  which  is  not  lighted,  as  it  was 
to  have  been,  by  electricity  because  one  of  the  work- 
men, employed  in  arranging  the  wires,  was  killed  by 
an  electric  shock  this  morning.  I  have  slipped  away, 
because  emotions,  like  oysters,  will  not  bear  keeping  ; 
and  I  shall  have  no  peace  of  mind  till  you  know  that 
the  tardy  date  of  this  letter  is  really  not  one  of  my 
sins  of  omission.  I  am  reading  Morley's  life  of  your 
friend  Cobden.  The  book  is  I  think  exceedingly  well 
done.  But  it  does  not  change  my  impression  that 
Cobden  is  hugely  overrated  by  his  political  admirers. 

Have  you  seen  a  vilely  ill-written  but  very  amusing 
life  of  George  the  Fourth  by  FitzGerald  ? 

But  I  see  that  this  letter  will  become  one  long  note 
of  interrogation,  if  I  do  not  end  it  here. 
Adieu  !  adieu  !  adieu  ! 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 
Most  sincerely  yours, 

Lytton, 


TRIAL  OF  DYNAMITERS  257 

The  following  letter,  written  two  years  later    is  of 
considerable  interest  : 

Knebworth  House, 
Stevenage. 

12th  Aug.,  1883. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

You  are  certainly  the  most  generous  of  corre- 
spondents. How  good  of  you  to  write — out  of  the 
abundance  of  your  bright  and  nimble  spirit — to  such 
an  epistolary  niggard,  and  dull  social  sloth,  as  I  have 
been  !  Going  into  the  composition  of  a  big  book  is 
rather  like  going  into  religion.  It  isolates  one  from 
the  living  world.  One  might  as  well  be  living  in  a 
diving-bell  under  the  ocean.  However,  my  diving-bell 
has  been  drawn  up  ;  and  I  have  come  to  the  surface 
to  breathe — for  a  while.  My  two  first  volumes  of 
biography  were  dispatched  last  Saturday  to  the 
Printers,  and  will,  I  hope,  be  out  in  November.  The 
Autobiographical  part  of  them  is  really  good.  But  I 
feel  very  dejected  about  my  own  part  of  them,  which 
I  have  written  over  and  over  again,  without  pleasing 
myself. 

Your  letter  found  me — at  Liverpool — of  all  places 
in  the  world — and  on  the  bench  of  the  Assize  Court, 
listening  to  the  trial  of  the  Dynamiters  by  my  friend 
Stephen,  who,  in  his  robes  and  wig,  really  looks  very 
much  like  the  Supreme  Image  in  Michael  Angclo's 
picture  of  the  Last  Judgment.  The  poor  devils  have 
got  penal  servitude  for  life,  which  they  richly  deserve. 
But  I  can't  help  pitying  them,  especially  one  of  them 
(Featherstone  by  name)  who  looked  more  intelligent 
and  refined  than  the  rest,  and  whose  very  pretty  and 
tender  letters  to  his  sweetheart  were  read  out  in  Court 
as  evidence  against  him.  I  believe  that  none  of  these 
men  were  personally  intimate  with  each  other.  All 
were  moved  about  like  pawns,  by  the  orders  of  some 
mysterious  Head  Centre,  to  play  their  several  parts 
in  the  dangerous  game  they  have  lost,  and  I  should 
17 


258  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

think  it  must  have  added  to  the  mortification  and 
humiliation  of  this  man  to  discover  from  the  dreadful 
revelations  of  the  prisoners'  dock  that  his  partners  in 
what  perhaps  may  have  seemed  to  him  an  heroic 
enterprise  had  been  all  the  while  ignorant,  brutish 
ruffians  of  the  very  lowest  type.  I  looked  over  the 
pocket-book  which  had  been  taken  from  him  when  he 
was  arrested,  and  to  my  mind  it  was  full  of  grim 
pathos.  For  it  contained,  amongst  other  records  of 
the  human  life  from  which  he  is  now  irrevocably  cut  off, 
the  photograph  of  an  extremely  pretty,  well-dressed, 
modest-looking  woman,  and  between  horrible  receipts 
for  the  manufacture  of  the  deadliest  explosives,  little 
scraps  of  sentimental  verses — notes  [  upon  Italian  art 
and  Spanish  literature — quotations  from  the  poems 
of  your  friend  Lowell — full  of  trashy  sentiments  and 
high-flown  phrases  about  Liberty — and  therewith  the 
following  queer  title  of  some  book,  probably  the  man's 
own,  "  Love  longings  by  three  daughters  !  "  "Well, 
incarceration  for  life  in  a  convict  prison  at  Portland 
must  be  an  effectual  quencher  of  love  longings  of  all 
kinds.    Poor  wretch  ! 

The  saddest  part  of  it  all,  and  the  grimmest,  is  the 
reflexion  that  the  man  who,  by  his  vapid  oratory 
about  "  Chapel  Bells  "  and  "  practical  politics,"  etc., 
has  encouraged,  incited,  and  beguiled  these  scatter- 
brained fools  and  dupes  of  an  insane  idea  into  the 
paths  which  have  led  them  to  "  Penal  Servitude  for 
life,"  is  now  Prime  Minister — highly  popular — and 
perfectly  satisfied  with  all  the  results  of  his  own,  more 
criminal,  lunacy.  I  am  sick  to  the  soul  of  English 
politics  and  politicians.  I  fear  that  the  moral  irregu- 
larities to  which  you  refer  are  prevalent  amongst 
our  future  rulers  ;  for  Stephen  told  me  he  had  lately 
been  trying  for  some  horrible  crime  one  of  these 
gentlemen  who,  had  his  career  not  been  thus  untimely 
cut  short,  might,  I  daresay,  have  lived  to  become 
a  Cabinet  Minister  under  the  Premiership  of  Mr. 
Chamberlain. 


WILFRED  BLUNT  259 

Autumn  seems  to  be  the  pairing  time  for  Society 
and  London  is  teeming  just  now  with  matrimonial 
activity.  My  wife  tells  me  that  Gay  Paget  looked  very 
happy,  as  well  as  pretty,  as  a  bride. 

I  don't  know  the  other  bridegroom,  Lord  Elcho, 
but  am  told  he  is  a  clever,  rising  young  man.  What 
are  your  impressions  of  him  ?  His  father,  Wemyss, 
made  an  amusing  speech  the  other  day,  which  con- 
siderably ruffled  the  Duke  of  Richmond  ;  and  went 
into  the  lobby  with  a  minority  of  9,  of  which  I  was  one. 
To  my  great  vexation  I  find  that  while  I  was  away 
at  Liverpool  my  wife  received  from  the  Duchess  of 
Wellington  an  invitation  to  Strathfieldsaye,  which 
she  was  obliged  to  decline  for  both  of  us  as  it  was  for 
the  1 8th,  when  we  have  a  house  full  of  people  here. 
I  can't  say  how  provoked  I  am  by  this  third  dis- 
appointment ;  it  really  seems  as  if  we  were  under  some 
sortilege  about  Strathfieldsaye,  and  doomed  never  to 
go  there. 

Wilfred  Blunt  is  about  to  pour  forth  his  soul  in  a 
poem  on  the  wrongs  of  Egypt.  He  is  young  enough  to 
believe  in  the  conscientiousness  of  Gladstone  and  the 
"  Justice  of  Nature  "  :  as  to  which  my  own  views  are 
much  the  same  as  those  expressed  by  a  working  man 
in  the  following  discourse  which  a  friend  of  mine 
assures  me  he  heard  the  other  day  in  a  working  man's 
Sunday  Club : 

"  My  Atheist  friend,"  said  the  speaker,  "  talks  to 
me  about  the  justice  of  Natur.  But  I  ask  my  Atheist 
friend,  where  in  Natur  does  he  find  Justice  ?  Behold, 
my  friends,  the  Ban-y-an  tree  of  the  Heast.  Its 
beautiful  foliage  delights  the  heye,  its  sweet  savour 
attracts  the  palate.  The  wild  man  of  the  Heast, 
animated  by  the  best  and  purest  intentions,  eats  of 
the  fruit  thereof,  and  invariably  dies  of  cholera  in  the 
course  of  the  same  afternoon.  Is  that  Justice  ?  But 
my  Atheist  friend  may  say  '  Behold  on  the  contrary 
the  beneficent  designs  of  Natur.  For  the  next  person 
that  passes  that  way,  perceiving  the  deplorable  condi- 


260  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

tion  of  the  previous  gentlemen,  avoids  the  fruit  of  the 
tree,  and  so  escapes  its  fatal  consequences.'  But,  my 
Atheist  friend,  that  is  not  justice,  it  is  a  double  hin- 
justice  ;  for  the  one  man  dies  and  the  other  man 
don't." 

Have  you  lately  heard  anything  of  or  from  Lady 
Sherborne  ?  Her  letters  to  us,  written  just  after  the 
death  of  old  Sherborne,  might  have  been  written  by 
Juliet  over  the  tomb  of  Romeo  :  and  since  then, 
she  has  preserved  a  silence  morne  et  profonde. 
Adieu,  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Yours  ever  very  sincerely, 

Lytton. 

Lord  Lytton's  letters  besides  abounding  in  vivacious 
comment  were  also  frequently  enlivened  by  happy 
phrases  and  quaint  conceits. 

"  Oh  dear!  "  once  wrote  he  to  my  mother.  "Why 
do  we  grow  old  ?  It  would  be  so  much  nicer  to  grow 
younger,  and  die  at  last  in  the  arms  of  a  wet-nurse 
on  the  bosom  of  innocence." 

For  Lady  Lytton,  and  for  her  sister  Mrs.  Earle — 
the  clever  writer  of  a  number  of  charming  books — my 
mother  had  the  greatest  admiration. 

Of  Lady  Lytton,  one  of  my  mother's  correspondents 
wrote  in  1901  : 

"  I  think  Lady  Lytton  such  a  good  woman,  so  con- 
tented with  her  restricted  life  after  having  tasted  such 
glories  and  such  interesting  society.  She  has  a  great 
deal  to  tell  and  tells  it  well." 

Another  diplomatist  who  never  failed  to  pay  a  visit 
to  Charles  Street  when  he  was  in  England  was  the  late 
Sir  Clare  Ford.  Though  not  such  a  regular  corre- 
spondent as  Lord  Lytton,  he  kept  my  mother  posted 
as  to  anything  which  might  be  of  interest.  At  the  time 
of  the  wedding  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  Italy,  he 
wrote  : 


SIR  CLARE  FORD  261 

'  I  arrived  in  Rome  in  time  for  the  Royal  Wedding 
and  we  are  at  present  in  the  midst  of  the  marriage 
festivities.  The  Bride  is  very  beautiful.  She  is  tall — 
and  a  perfect  brune — with  jet-black  hair  and  dark  eyes. 
I  think  the  marriage  is  popular  in  Italy  and  it  is  quite 
a  '  love  match,'  which  renders  these  occasions  more 
interesting.  I  dined  last  night  at  the  Palace,  and  kept 
the  menu  for  you.  Will  you  forgive  me  if  I  return 
your  letter  to  you,  as  I  was  unable  to  read  the  words 
underlined  in  red  pencil  ?  I  should  like  to  carry  out 
your  wishes,  but  I  do  not  understand  what  you  would 
like." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  note  in  question  contained 
a  request  for  any  memorials  of  the  Royal  marriage. 

My  mother  made  a  point  of  obtaining  as  many  little 
souvenirs  of  public  events  as  possible,  and  possessed  a 
great  number  of  the  badges  and  portraits  sold  by 
street  vendors  at  Royal  Weddings,  Funerals,  Corona- 
tions, and  the  like. 

Of  menus  she  had  an  interesting  collection,  in  a 
number  of  them  the  names  of  the  guests  have  been 
written  in  pencil  on  the  backs,  which  imparts  an 
additional  interest.  In  old  days  some  menu  collectors 
liked  to  note  down  particulars  of  the  dinner  itself  as 
well.  One  of  them  meeting  an  old  friend  whom  he  had 
not  seen  for  thirty  years  said  :  "  Do  you  remember 
how  cold  the  soup  was  the  last  time  that  we  dined 
together  ?    I  made  a  special  note  of  it !  " 

Another  Italian  correspondent,  "  Ouida,"  was  not 
so  enthusiastic  about  Italian  Royalty  as  Sir  Clare 
Ford  ;   in  her  last  days,  this  lady  wrote  : 

2V)th  December. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I   received  your   kind   remembrances   through 
Lady  Bancroft,  and  I  hope  you  are  well  and  enjoyin 
the  visits  of  your  innumerable  friends.     I  want 
much  to  see  you  again  and  many  others,  but  I  dread 


262  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

the  "  automobiles  "  and  the  crush  of  those  hideous 
motor-omnibuses.  They  are  bad  enough  here.  This 
little  King  has  sold  3  /4s  of  his  horses  to  buyjnotor-cars  ; 
it  is  like  his  bad  taste.  He  is  a  miserable  specimen  of 
royalty.  I  often  think  of  your  hospitable  hearth, 
and  I  wish  I  could  sit  there  for  an  hour  with  your 
charming  conversation  in  my  ear. 

Ever  yours  affectionately, 

Ouida. 

No  doubt  the  memory  of  the  stalwart  Victor 
Emmanuel,  "  il  re  galantuomo,"  lingered  in  the 
novelist's  mind  and  made  her  intolerant  of  his 
excellent  but  less  robust  grandson. 

It  may  here  be  incidentally  stated  that  my  mother 
was  once  of  very  great  service  to  Ouida,  who,  though 
she  at  times  made  considerable  sums  by  her  books, 
was  very  extravagant.  During  a  visit  to  England  she 
was  only  extricated  from  a  very  embarrassing  position 
by  my  mother,  who,  with  the  help  of  some  friends, 
settled  matters. 

King  Edward  was  always  charming  to  my  mother. 
As  Prince  of  Wales — from  time  to  time  he  came  to 
lunch  at  Charles  Street,  and  no  one  better  than  he 
understood  the  hostess's  quaint  fancies.  He  often 
sent  her  little  presents,  and  with  intuitive  perception 
invariably  chose  something  which  gave  immense 
pleasure — a  little  Japanese  figure  mounted  as  a  pin, 
for  instance,  was  one  of  these  treasured  gifts,  and  this 
she  generally  wore. 

At  the  proper  season  my  mother  used  every  year 
to  receive  a  consignment  of  pheasants'  eggs.  For  some 
reason  or  other  she  never  failed  at  such  times  to  send 
a  number  to  the  Prince,  who  always  wrote  back  a 
warm  note  of  thanks.  This  was  highly  characteristic 
of  his  kindly  tact,  for  from  his  own  preserves  at 
Sandringham  any  amount  could  of  course  be  obtained. 

During  visits  to  Homburg  the  Prince  was  always 
very  nice  to  her,  and  for  many  years  she  received 


KING  EDWARD  263 

letters  from  him,  a  number  of  which,  like  the  following, 
gave  a  lively  account  of  his  movements. 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Many  thanks  for  your  letter  and  for  giving  me 
some  news  of  yourself,  which  is  always  a  pleasure  to 
receive.  The  R.  Hospital,  Dublin,  will  be  greatly  dis- 
appointed at  your  non-appearance.  I  only  wish  that 
the  illustrious  General's1  term  of  office  could  be  pro- 
longed as  he  is  so  popular  and  is  the  right  man  in  the 
right  place.  I  am  so  glad  to  hear  that  you  enjoyed 
your  visit  to  .  It  is  a  charming  place,  and  im- 
possible to  find  a  kinder  host  and  hostess  !  I  will  try 
and  get  Dragon's  Tears,  and  am  much  obliged  to  you 
for  recommending  the  American  Novels,  which  I  have 
read  with  great  interest. 

I  have  been  travelling  about  a  great  deal  since  leav- 
ing England.  After  joining  my  belongings  in  Denmark, 
where  I  sojourned  nearly  a  fortnight,  we  went  to 
Venice  via  Frankfort  and  Munich,  and  enjoyed  that 
lovely  city  on  the  sea  immortalized  by  Byron  im- 
mensely, then  proceeded  in  Osborne  to  Corfu,  where  we 
found  summer,  and  then  came  on  here,  where  it  is  as 
hot  as  in  India — upwards  of  ioo°  in  the  sun  ;  but  the 
weather  is  splendid  and  the  nights  lovely,  though 
mosquito  curtains  are  much  in  requisition  at*  night. 

The  grand  wedding  is  on  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
and  following  day  I  go  in  Osborne  to  Port  Said,  where 
I  find  my  eldest  son  on  board  Oceanic,  which  is  bound 
for  Bombay,  and  wish  him  "  God  Speed  !  '  Then  I 
proceed  to  Alexandria  and  shall  take  a  short  trip  to 
Cairo,  which  I  have  not  seen  for  13  years  past. 

I  expect  to  return  here  by  Nov.  7th,  and  by  the 
middle  of  next  month  we  shall,  I  think  and  hope,  find 
ourselves  at  home  again. 

Could  we  induce  you  to  shed  the  light  of  your 
countenance  on  our  country  abode  at  the  end  of 
December  ?  and  stay  with  us  from  30th  till  Jan.  4th 

1  The  late  Lord  Wolseley. 


264 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


or  6th  ?  It  is  a  long  time  hence,  but  I  know  how 
much  you  are  in  demand,  so  take  Time  by  the  fore- 
lock. 

This  place  has  wonderfully  grown  and  improved 
since  I  was  here  14  years  ago,  and  has  become  quite  a 
capital  of  importance.  Some  day  you  should  extend 
your  peregrinations  in  foreign  parts  here,  as  I  am  sure 
you  would  be  much  interested. 

The  result  of  the  Brighton  election  will  be  very 
interesting,  much  more  so  than  the  Cambridgeshire 
at  any  rate. 

You  must  please  excuse  this  dull  rigmarole,  which 
it  is  about  time  that  I  brought  to  a  close,  and  thanking 
you  again  for  having  given  me  de  vos  nouvelles, 

Believe  me,  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 
Very  sincerely  yours, 

When  the  Duchess  of  Fife  had  a  daughter,  the  Prince 
wrote : 

Marlborough  House. 

May  iSth  (1891). 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  feel  very  proud  to  address  you  in  the  light  of 
a  grandfather  !  and  am  most  grateful  for  your  kind 
congratulations  on  the  occasion.  I  am  glad  to  say 
that  our  daughter  and  baby  are  doing  as  well  as 
possible  and  have  full  expectations  that  there  will  be 
no  drawback  of  any  kind. 

It  is  indeed  a  long  time  since  I  last  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  you — but  it  is  my  misfortune  !  I  am  truly 
sorry  to  hear  how  ill  your  brother  is.  Please  tell  him 
that  I  enquired  after  him,  and  how  much  I  regret  his 
having  kept  aloof  from  the  civilized  world  for  so  long, 
and  having  utterly  repudiated  me — who  have  such  a 
great  admiration  for  him  ! 

With  kind  regards  to  you  and  your  daughter, 

Ever 
Yours  very  sincerely, 


LETTERS  265 

Another  letter  ran  : 

R.  Yacht  Osborne, 
Cannes. 

August  gth  (1895). 
My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Many  thanks  for  your  amusing  letter  received 
to-day,  and  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  enjoying 
Alpine  scenery  after  the  London  season.  I  regret  so 
much  not  to  have  seen  you  at  my  entertainment, 
my  time  was  unfortunately  so  taken  up  that  I  had  not 
any  chance  of  paying  you  a  visit,  but  trust  that  it  is 
only  a  pleasure  deferred  for  the  autumn  and  winter  ! 

Though  I  know  you  do  not  appreciate  Norfolk 
Clergymen,  I  hope  you  will  interview  Mr.  Knight 
respecting  the  Nelson  sword  he  is  so  anxious  to  possess. 
We  have  been  here  since  a  week  and  the  weather 
was  perfectly  abominable  at  first  but  it  has  improved 
since. 

I  have  been  very  fortunate  with  Britannia,  this  yacht 
having  won  4  out  of  5  races. 

Dear  little  Sir  Harry  Keppel  is  staying  on  board 
with  us  as  usual,  and  though  86  he  has  grown  younger 
than  ever  since  the  providential  ending  of  his  domestic 
worries !  It  is  very  full  at  Cowes  this  year  too 
much  so  for  my  pleasure  and  comfort,  and  my  wonder 
is  where  on  earth  the  people  come  from  ? 

Your  kind  congratulations  on  "  Florizel's  "  victory 
gratified  me  very  much,  and  I  trust  that  his  younger 
brother  "Persimmon"  may  turn  out  even  a  better 
horse. 

I  expect  to  be  at  Homburg  about  the  21st.  Is  there 
no  chance  of  my  having  the  pleasure  of  finding  you 
there  about  that  time  ? 

Believe  me, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Often  his  letters  dealt  with  books.     My  mother  us 
to  let  him  know  of  any  which  she  thought   might 


266  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

interest  him,  and  he  for  his  part  understood  her 
curious  little  letters,  which  occasionally  were  so 
queeiiy  directed  that  it  was  a  wonder  they  ever 
reached  their  destination. 

Writing  to  a  friend  after  having  misdirected  a  letter 
to  the  Prince,  she  said  : 

"  I  directed  the  letter  to  him  Marienbad,  Deutsch- 
land,  and  he  says  he  must  send  me  a  map  of  Europe 
that  I  may  learn  geography." 

In  1896  he  wrote  : 

Telegrams  :  Fryston  Hall, 

Ferrybridge.  Ferrybridge, 

Yorkshire. 
September  13. 

My  dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

Many  thanks  for  your  kind  letter  of  congratu- 
lation on  "  Persimmon's "  additional  great  victory. 
It  speaks  well  for  Norfolk  as  this  is  the  second  horse 
bred  there  that  has  won  the  two  great  Classic 
Races. 

Your  stay  at  Miirren  seems  much  to  have  resembled  the 
climate  Dr.  Nansen  found  in  the  North  Pole  !  Regard- 
ing the  books  you  mention,  I  have  got  Without  Sin, 
but  have  not  yet  read  it.  The  Island  of  Dr.  Moreau 
I  have  read  and  it  is  very  ghastly.  I  saw  Sir  Wolff1 
this  day  back  in  town,  and  thought  him  very  flourish- 
ing. This  is  a  charming  and  most  comfortable  house, 
containing  some  very  fine  pictures  and  a  magnificent 
collection  of  books.  I  am  going  into  York  this  after- 
noon to  attend  the  Service  in  the  glorious  Minster, 
and  have  to  leave  this  to-night  for  Mar  Lodge, 
Strathspey. 

It  will  be  some  time  ere  I  am  in  Town  again, 
excepting  just  passing  through,  but  shall  hope  to 
have    an    opportunity  of   seeing  you   ere  long,   and 

1  The  late  Sir  Henry  Drummond-Wolfl. 


A  RIDICULOUS  RUMOUR  267 

hoping  these  lines  will  find  you  and  your  daughter 
most  flourishing, 

Ever, 
Yours  very  sincerely, 

During  the  last  years  of  her  life  she  met  and  became 
friends  with  Lord  French,  for  whom  she  conceived  a 
great  liking  and  admiration. 

When  King  Edward  died  Sir  John  (as  he  then  was) 
wrote  to  her  (May  12th,  1910)  :  * 

"  What  a  terrible  loss  !  !  The  Queen  asked  me  to 
go  to  see  our  dear  King  on  his  death-bed.  It  was  so 
very,  very  kind  of  her,  and  I  felt  it  so.  I  went,  and 
was  glad  to  have  one  last  look  at  him.  He  looked  just 
as  if  he  was  well  and  asleep  !  " 

The  death  of  King  Edward  was  a  real  blow  to  my 
mother,  for  she  greatly  appreciated  the  kindness  which 
he  and  Queen  Alexandra  had  alwa}^s  shown  to  her. 

Writing  to  a  friend  in  August,  1907,  my  mother 
said  : 

"  You  will  see  we  were  sent  for  to  see  the  Queen. 
She  was  so  nice.  Kissed  me,  and  showed  us  all  over 
her  apartments,  and  such  treasures  of  art,  etc.  She 
said  when  she  first  saw  the  palace  she  could  never  enter 
so  dreadful  a  place  quite  Victorian — but  now  she 
delights  in  it." 

In  a  letter  written  to  Miss  Haldane  after  King 
Edward's  death  is  an  allusion  to  a  ridiculous  rumour 
which  prevailed  in  parts  of  Ireland  that  he  had  died  a 
Roman  Catholic. 

"  Oh  what  a  time  it  has  been,"  wrote  she.  '  But 
everywhere  they  seem  to  wish  to  canonize  the  poor 
King.  Ireland  is  obstreperous  in  their  grief,  for  they 
say  he  was  an  R.C.  There  is  nothing  like  dying  to 
make  one  famous.  What  is  the  Government  about  ? 
I  think  the  Upper  Classes  will  now  have  a  look  in. 


268  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  Jews  and  smart  set  will  take  a  lower  seat.  I  feel 
the  King  will  do  all  that  is  right  and  just,  and  there- 
fore will  not  cull  popularity — and  so  let  it  be." 

In  another  letter  she  said  : 

"  What  a  troubled  time  we  have  all  had  of  it,  and 
how  completely  politics  have  gone  from  the  public 
mind  ;  but  I  am  convinced  this  King  will  take  a  much 
more  conservative  view  of  life,  and  he  will  uphold  the 
"  Upper  Class  "  more  than  his  father  did.  Still  we 
have  had  a  loss  in  many  ways,  but  all  think  your 
Government1  helped  his  exit  out  of  the  world." 

Though  nothing  was  more  alien  to  my  mother's 
disposition  than  running  after  Royalties,  she  often 
received  letters  giving  an  account  of  their  doings. 
When,  for  instance,  Queen  Victoria  was  staying  in  the 
South  of  France  a  correspondent  who  was  one  of  the 
Royal  entourage  wrote  : 

"  The  Queen  seems  to  like  Grasse,  and  is  pleased  with 
her  stay  there,  where  she  is  much  freer  and  quieter 
than  she  could  be  at  any  other  place  in  this  neighbour- 
hood ;  but  it  is  particularly  execrated  by  all  the 
members  of  her  suite,  who  are  plunged  in  profound 
gloom  and  despondency  by  the  dullness,  the  cold,  and 
the  isolation  of  it.  All,  at  least,  but  a  certain  great 
lady,  who  is  a  woman  of  a  very  inquiring  turn  of  mind  ; 
and  bets  me  she  has  already  written  two  articles  about 
Grasse,  where  she  says  she  has  discovered  Druidical 
remains  of  incalculable  antiquity,  older  even  than  her 
husband  himself  !  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever 
heard  that  the  Druids  penetrated  into  Provence." 

Some  years  before  her  death  my  mother  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Sir  Hesketh  Bell,  and  after  the  great 
catastrophe  at  St.  Pierre  he  sent  her  the  following 
letter  : 

1  The  Radicals. 


MONT  PELEE  269 

Government  House, 

Dominica,  W.I. 

20th  February,  1905. 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  fear  you  have  probably  forgotten  all  about  me, 
my  '  creepy  "  stories  of  St.  Pierre,  and  my  promise 
to  send  you  some  of  the  ash  that  fell  from  Mont  Pelee. 
In  the  hope  that  you  have  not  quite  lost  sight  of  me, 
I  am  sending  you,  enclosed,  a  sample  of  the  stuff  which 
gave  so  rough  and  ready  a  burial  to  35,000  poor 
wretches.  You  will  see  it  is  just  like  cigar  ash.  One 
night,  during  the  eruptions,  a  strong  wind  blew  from 
Martinique,  and  we  had  a  heavy  shower  of  the  ash  here, 
and  began  to  wonder  how  much  more  of  it  was  coming. 
The  mountain  still  has  intermittent  bursts  of  activity, 
but  seems  to  be  wearing  itself  out.  When  I  passed  by 
Martinique,  three  months  ago,  the  ruins  of  St.  Pierre 
were  already  beginning  to  be  wrapped  in  tropical 
vegetation  ;  and  treasure-seekers  are  busy  digging  all 
over  the  place,  hunting  for  money  and  jewellery  that 
may  not  have  been  melted. 

I  am  writing  to  you  in  my  garden,  where  I  have  an 
alfresco  office.  Although  it  is  February,  there  is  a 
great  bowl  of  roses  on  my  table,  and  I  can  see  the 
humming-birds  darting  through  the  spray  of  the 
fountain,  in  the  middle  of  the  garden.  The  sky  is  as 
blue  as  in  Italy,  and  the  great  leaves  of  the  big  fan- 
palm  over  my  head  are  swaying  gently  in  a  breeze 
redolent  of  orange  blossoms.  Why  don't  you  and 
everybody  come  out  here  during  the  winter  ?  It  is 
nothing  of  a  journey  and  there  are  very  few  incon- 
veniences worth  mentioning.  "  What  about  vol- 
canoes ?  "  you  are  probably  saying.  But  really — I 
think  their  day  is  done,  and  they  will  probably  be 
quiet  now  for  another  500  years. 

I  hope  you  are  in  the  best  of  health  and  spirits,  and 
I  look  forward  to  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  about  tiuv 
end  of  the  year.    I  often  remember  that  charming  and 


270  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

interesting  luncheon  party  at  Charles  Street.    My  kind 
souvenir  to  Miss  Nevill,  please,  and  believe  me, 

Sincerely  yours, 

H.  Hesketh  Bell. 

From  time  to  time  during  her  long  life  my  mother 
had  correspondents  in  most  parts  of  the  world,  and  she 
generally  heard  from  someone  on  the  spot  when  any 
social  or  diplomatic  turmoil  was  in  progress  or  brewing. 

The  following,  which  though  fallacious  in  its  fore- 
cast, contains  an  interesting  reference  to  an  individual 
destined  to  become  one  of  the  most  sinister  figures  in 
the  great  European  earthquake,  she  received  from 
Tangier  in  March,  1905  : 

1  We  have  great  political  excitements  here.  I  do 
hope  England  will  keep  free  from  any  international 
scrimmage  that  may  arrive — we  are  pledged  to  sup- 
port French  policy  in  Morocco,  but  not,  I  fancy,  any- 
where outside  of  it — and  once  we  are  free  of  this  seeth- 
ing pot  of  intrigue,  Morocco,  why  on  earth  should  we 
burn  our  fingers  !  Do  impress  this  upon  any  politicians 
you  see,  and  also  that  an  internationally  guaranteed 
Morocco  would  be  far  more  profitable  to  us  than  a 
French  Morocco.  We  have  made  our  bargain — and  a 
very  good  one — and  France  must  .get  out  of  her  diffi- 
culties as  best  she  can,  as  it  was  her  fault  alone  that 
she  had  any. 

'  The  German  charge  d'affaires — Herr  von  Kiihlmann 
— is  a  brilliant  young  diplomat,  and  has  played  his 
cards  without  a  single  slip.  His  triumph  of  bringing 
the  German  Emperor  here  next  week  is  positively 
brilliant.  France,  after  signing  the  Anglo-French 
agreement  in  April  last,  should  have  squared  Germany, 
just  as  we  had  to  arrange  our  Egyptian  affairs  with 
Germany  after  the  same  agreement.  Nowadays  it  is 
none  of  our  affair — we  have  withdrawn  our  active 
interest  in  Morocco,  and  should  keep  it  withdrawn  at 
present." 


GERMAN  INTERESTS  271 

My  mother  fully  appreciated  the  growing  power  of 
Germany  and  the  way  in  which  its  wealth  had  in- 
creased since  her  childhood.  Then  it  was  a  poor 
country,  the  people  of  which  rarely  travelled.  The 
tireless  energy  which  agents  of  the  Fatherland  were 
already  displaying  in  pushing  their  interests  all  over 
the  British  Empire,  did  not  escape  her,  and  she  would 
often  deplore  the  apathy  and  short-sightedness  shown 
by  her  own  countrymen. 

"  Those  horrid  foreigners,"  she  would  say,  "  get 
everything  !  " 

She  was  much  opposed  to  the  unlimited  admission 
of  aliens,  and  did  not  at  all  approve  in  1910  of  Sir 
Ernest  Cassel's  proposal  to  celebrate  the  death  of 
King  Edward  by  an  enormous  fund  for  the  help  of 
Germans  in  England. 

The  humorous  proposal  of  a  clever  friend  to  promote 
a  fund  to  encourage  Germans  to  stay  at  home  seemed 
to  her  a  much  better  thing  ! 

From  time  to  time  my  mother  had  a  number  of 
correspondents  in  India,  one  of  the  earliest  having 
been  Lord  Mayo,  who  when  visiting  the  Andaman 
Islands  was  assassinated  by  a  convict.  She  used  to 
describe  how,  on  the  receipt  of  the  sad  news,  old  Lord 
Ellenborough  came  to  see  her,  and,  after  expressing 
his  deep  sorrow,  broke  down  and  cried  like  a  child. 

In  1895,  Sir  Henry  Brackenbury  sent  her  the 
following  : 

With  the  Supreme  Government, 
India. 

yd  November,  '95. 
Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  write  from  Sir  William  Lockhart's  home  at 
Murree,  on  my  way  back  to  India  from  a  delightful 
tour  in  Kashmir,  among  the  most  lovely  s<  and 

in  the  most  perfect  climate  I  ever  remember.  My  last 
evening  there  gave  me  a  glorious  view  by  sunset  of 
Nanga  Parbat,  the  highest  mountain  in  the  world  but 


272  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

one,  in  trying  to  ascend  which  Mr.  Mummery  and  his 
companions  lost  their  lives  this  summer.  It  was  a 
mad  attempt.  It  is  27,000  feet  high,  and  the  few  men 
who  have  even  gone  over  20,000  feet  describe  the  suffer- 
ing as  great,  say  it  is  impossible  to  take  much  exertion, 
or  to  sleep  at  such  heights.  Even  the  Yaks  halt  every 
five  minutes,  and  they  can't  live  below  12,000  feet. 

I  drove  64  miles  yesterday,  and  65  miles  to-day, 
ascending  5000  feet  in  four  hours  from  the  Kashmir 
frontier  to  this  place.  To-morrow  I  start  for  the 
Malakand  Pass  to  see  the  arrangements  for  the  troops 
we  are  leaving  there  and  at  Chakdarra.  Thence  I  go 
to  Jammu  to  pay  the  Maharaja  of  Kashmir  a  few 
hours'  visit,  and  partake  of  a  State  dinner  he  is  deter- 
mined to  give  me  ;  and  I  have  to  meet  the  Viceroy 
at  Hyderabad  on  the  13th,  and  as  it  is  more  than 
2000  miles  by  rail  from  Jammu,  you  see  my  work  is 
cut  out  for  the  next  few  days.  It  would  be  impossible 
to  do  all  this  travelling  but  for  the  extreme  comfort, 
I  may  say  luxury,  in  which  a  high  official  in  India 
travels.  I  have  my  own  railway  carriage  with  sitting- 
room  (nice  easy  chairs),  bedroom,  bathroom,  and 
kitchen,  travel  with  my  own  cook,  and  so  am  inde- 
pendent of  railway  station  hours  or  refreshments. 

I  have  been  staying  in  Kashmir  with  a  charming 
Mrs.  Barnes,  the  wife  of  the  Resident.  She  is  a  sister 
of  the  Miss  Vanburghs  you  know  on  the  stage  in 
London,  and  she  knows  your  son  Horace  and  his  wife, 
though  not  you,  which  she  regrets,  as  she  ought  to  do. 
At  Hyderabad  I  stay  at  the  Residency,  where  I  shall 
meet  the  lady  who  has  replaced  the  late  beautiful 
Mrs.  Plowden,  whom  you  probably  knew.  I  go  on  to 
Madras  to  stay  three  days  with  the  Wenlocks,  and 
then  to  the  Andaman  Islands,  where  Lord  Mayo  was 
murdered,  where  I  stay  with  Sir  Richard  Temple's 
eldest  son,  the  Commissioner  there,  absurdly  like  his 
father.    I  reach  Calcutta  12th  December. 

What  becomes  of  me  when  my  time  is  up  here  I 
don't  know.     I  have  taken  my  passage  home  by  the 


SIR  HENRY  BRACKENBURY  273 

steamer  leaving  Bombay  on  25th  April.  Neither 
Lord  Lansdowne  nor  Lord  Wolseley  make  any  sign. 
The  latter  has  not  sent  me  a  word  "since  his  appoint- 
ment was  announced.  But  I  had  a  charming  private 
letter  from  Lord  George  Hamilton  a  fortnight  ago, 
saying  he  was  so  much  impressed  with  my  military 
administration  in  India,  that  he  should  be  very  sorry 
to  see  me  out  of  public  employ,  asking  my  wishes,  and 
saying  he  would  try  to  forward  them.  I  have  replied 
that  I  should  be  glad  to  be  employed  in  any  post  at 
home  I  may  be  thought  suited  for,  and  leave  myself 
in  his  hands  and  Lord  Lansdowne's. 

I  was  delighted  to  get  your  letter  of  3rd  September. 
Till  now  I  have  not  had  a  moment  in  which  to  answer 
it,  and  I  am  afraid  this  is  a  stupid  letter — but  I  want 
you  not  to  forget  me  in  my  long  exile,  I  don't  feel 
any  the  worse  for  it,  either  mentally  or  physically  ; 
but  five  years  away  from  England  is  long  enough  at 
my  age,  if  not  indeed  too  long. 

Please  give  my  kindest  remembrances  to  Miss  Nevill, 
and 

Believe  me, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

(Sgd.)     H.  Brackenbury. 

Amongst  other  Indian  correspondents  in  later  years, 
one  of  a  rather  cynical  turn  of  mind  sent  her  amusing 
letters. 

Referring  to  certain  reports  as  to  an  unpopular 
officer  who  had  made  great  mistakes  in  India,  he 
said  : 

"X.  left  on  leave  for  England — everyone  thought 
for  good — when  suddenly  Rcuter  announced  his 
return. 

"  The  indignation  which  ensued  was,  it  is  said,  only 
pacified  by  a  report  being  put  about  that  he  was 
coming  back  to  be  tried,  and  not  to  resume  com- 
mand." 
18 


274  LADY    DOROTHY    NEVILL 

Another  Anglo-Indian  letter  written  in  1903  says  : 

"  I  don't  suppose  that  the  Government  will,  or 
wants  to,  last  another  year.  Lord  Lansdowne  is  their 
Jonah.  This  Somali  War  has  been  a  grievous  mistake, 
but  he  loves  to  dabble  in  wars — little  wars,  as  he 
believes. 

This  correspondent  spoke  very  strongly  of  the  un- 
popularity of  the  Smart  Set  in  Anglo-Indian  Society, 
which  thought  itself  ignored  during  the  Durbar  follow- 
ing upon  King  Edward's  Coronation. 

"  We  had  an  influx  of  visitors  here  after  the  Delhi 
Durbar,"  wrote  he,  "  but  not  near  so  many  as  I 
expected  and  prepared  for.  They  seemed  to  me  a 
trifle  satiated  with  all  the  splendour  they  had  seen. 
'  The  Smart  Set,'  including  the  Duchesses,  did  not 
make  themselves  at  all  popular  in  Anglo-Indian 
Society,  which  they  seem  to  have  ignored.  This 
apparently  has  left  some  soreness  behind.  The 
Curzons  did  their  part  well.  I  hope  he  is  going  to 
have  an  extension.  Although  not  popular,  he  is  the 
best  Viceroy  India  has  had  for  many  years.  Tact 
never  was  his  strong  point,  but  75  per  cent  of  the 
stories  you  hear  about  him  are  untrue." 

In  old  days,  before  the  opening  up  of  Japan,  Sir 
Harry  Parkes,  who  was  a  great  friend  of  my  mother's, 
wrote  to  her  from  the  Far  East — he  also  sent  her  a 
number  of  curiosities,  including  the  pigeon-whistles 
(whistles  attached  to  pigeons'  tails  which  gave  forth 
curious  sounds  as  they  flew)  which  used  to  astonish 
visitors  to  Dangstein.  From  him  she  had  learnt  a 
good  deal  about  old  days  in  China  and  Japan.  She 
had  also  known  many  others,  including  that  "  Pall 
Mall  Messiah  "  Lawrence  Oliphant,  who  had  lived  in 
Japan  when  the  ferocity  of  the  two-sworded  Samurai 
made  a  military  escort  imperative.  She  fully  realized 
the  marvellous  rise  of  the  Japanese,  and  was  delighted 
to  have  lived  to  entertain  one  of  their  clever  am- 
bassadors, Baron  Hayashi,  to  luncheon. 


JAPAN  AND  RUSSIA  275 

In  latter  years  she  saw  a  good  deal  of  Mr.  Arthur 
Morrison,  whose  great  and  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
Far  East  she  much  appreciated.  She  liked  to  hear 
about  the  distant  lands  which  in  her  youth  had  been 
considered  almost  as  remote  as  the  moon. 

During  the  Russo-Japanese  War  she  was  kept  well 
posted  as  to  how  things  were  going. 

"  The  Japanese  will  still  do  well,  I  think,"  wrote  a 
gentleman.  "  The  Russians  seem  bent  on  divided 
counsels,  and  that  is  fatal.  Don't  fear  the  wearing  out 
of  ships  and  guns  which  some  foresee.  The  Japanese 
have  duplicates  of  every  gun  afloat,  and  can  make  more 
— are  making  more,  in  fact." 

When  the  terms  of  peace  were  arranged,  the  same 
correspondent  was  not,  however,  in  such  good  spirits  ; 
he  thought  that  Japan  had  been  rather  tricked  of  the 
full  rewards  of  victory,  and  wrote  : 

"  The  Japanese  are  very  angry  about  the  pe. 
conditions  ;  I  have  never  known  them  exhibit  their 
feeling  so  freely.  It  is  not  so  much  the  loss  of  the 
indemnity  that  troubles  them  as  the  actual  ceding 
back  of  half  of  Saghalien,  which  they  are  already  in 
possession  of,  that  vexes  them  beyond  belief  ;  and 
indeed  it  does  seem  a  foolish  concession." 

In  the  very  early  days  of  South  African  develop- 
ment, Sir  Theophilus  Shepstone  was  a  friend  of  my 
mother's,  and  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  her  from 
Africa.  He  would  seem  to  have  fully  realized  the  great 
future  which  lay  before  the  goldfields  of  the  Rand, 
for  he  wrote  to  my  mother,  telling  her  of  the  marvel- 
lous wealth  which  would  eventually  come  out  of  them — 
and  had  she  been  of  a  speculative  or  commercial  turn 
of  mind,  which  emphatically  she  was  not — his  !•  tins, 
and  those  of  other  pioneers  of  South  African  pn  >speri1 
might  have  put  her  on  the  road  to  making  a  larj 
fortune. 

Later  on,  during  the  South  African  War,  she  was  the 


276  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

recipient  of  all  sorts  of  stories  and  rumours — some  true, 
some  manifestly  absurd. 

One  of  the  queerest  was  a  report  that  Mr.  Arnold 
Forster  entertained  a  profound  conviction  that  per- 
manent peace  in  South  Africa  would  never  be  effected 
unless  all  the  Boers  were  taken  away  and  settled  in 
another  country — he  was  said  to  have  a  definite  plan 
for  carrying  this  out  ! 

From  its  very  inception  she  took  the  greatest 
interest  in  the  "  South  Kensington  Museum  " — now 
the  Victoria  and  Albert — to  which  up  to  the  very  end 
of  her  life  she  was  a  constant  visitor. 

From  her  earliest  years  my  mother  was  a  great 
frequenter  of  museums,  in  the  educational  value  of 
which  she  was  a  convinced  believer.  In  one  of  her  last 
letters  to  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  she  wrote : 

"  I  do  so  want  to  hear  from  you  ;  all  your  news  will 
be  acceptable,  for  I  have  none  but  what  the  papers  tell 
me.  We  have  been  here  some  weeks,  and  have  spent 
the  time  improving  my  mind  by  going  to  the  Museums, 
etc.  After  all  that  is  the  best  education,  and  I  have 
profited  by  it  all  my  life." 

The  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum  had  a  particular 
attraction  for  her.  She  would  often  recall  its  begin- 
nings, and  Sir  Henry  Cole,  who  had  been  quite  a 
character  in  his  way. 

According  to  a  story,  which  may  or  may  not  have 
been  true,  Cole  it  was  who  caused  the  Albert  Memorial 
to  be  built  where  it  is,  by  persuading  Queen  Victoria 
that  the  site  was  a  "  revelation  of  Providence." 

He  declared  that  if  a  line  were  taken  through  the 
centre  of  the  Exhibition  of  1851,  and  prolonged,  and 
then  another  line  breadthways  through  the  Exhibition 
of  1862,  and  also  prolonged,  the  two  would  cut  each 
other  at  the  spot  where  the  monument  was  to  be 
placed. 

From  Sir  H.  Cole's  day  onwards,  my  mother  was 
always  on  friendly  terms  with  those  responsible  for 


AN  AMUSING  LETTER  277 

the  direction  of  the  Museum.     The  late  Sir  Gaspard 
Purdon  Clarke  she  particularly  liked. 

Great  was  her  regret  when  on  his  appointment  as 
Director  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art  in  New 
York  he  left  South  Kensington.  Some  little  time  after 
his  arrival  in  America  he  sent  her  an  amusing  letter, 
containing  his  impressions  of  transatlantic  life  : 

:  This  is  the  third  evening  on  which  I  have  dined  at 
home  since  my  arrival,  and  until  the  warm  weather 
drives  everyone  from  New  York,  I  expect  to  be  dining 
out  every  evening,  and  to  be  called  upon  to  make  a 
*  few '  remarks  at  the  close  of  the  banquet.  The 
'  few  remarks  '  mean  a  speech,  which  is  bound  to  be 
badly  reported,  and  the  terrible  things  which  have 
been  quoted  as  my  sayings,  would  in  England  be  so 
serious  in  working  mischief  that  I  should  be  always 
writing  contradictions.  But  here  no  one  cares,  and  in 
twenty-four  hours  everything  is  forgotten,  both  bad 
and  good.  The  reporters  are  a  miserable  lot  of  half- 
trained  men,  very  few  being  able  to  write  shorthand, 
and  even  when  they  get  the  subject  of  a  speech  down 
rightly  some  idiot  of  a  Sub-Editor  writes  head-lines 
of  a  startling  nature  without  taking  the  trouble  to  read 
the  matter  beneath.  They  are  a  most  extraordinary 
people,  possessing  quite  opposite  qualities  in  each  in- 
dividual, generous  and  cruel,  extravagant  and  mean, 
trusting  no  one  yet  taken  in  by  pretentious  impostors  ; 
but  on  the  whole  the  balance  is  on  the  right  side,  and 
as  Chevalier  says  in  one  of  his  '  Coster  '  songs,  '  Yer 
can't  help  liking  '  them.  When  I  arrived,  some  low- 
down  '  penny-a-liner  '  who  came  to  interview  me  on 
board  gave  out  that  I  announced  my  intention  of 
becoming  an  American  citizen  at  once.  This  I  con- 
tradicted a  few  days  later  at  the  Scotch  national 
banquet,  in  a  humorous  speech,  saying  that  *  as  good 
Kings  were  generally  scarce,  I  intended  sticking  to  my 
own  King  until  I  found  a  better,  and  that  would  not  be 
possible  in  rov  time.'    This  did  not  give  offence,  but  on 


278  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

the  contrary  was  approved,  and  since  then  at  most  of 
the  dinners  they  sing  '  God  save  the  King  '  after  the 
1  Star-spangled  banner,'  in  both  cases  to  the  best  of 
their  memories  for  the  words.  At  several  dinners  the 
King's  health  was  drank,  after  the  President's,  but 
not  as  King  of  England,  simply  as  '  The  King,' 
following  the  old  custom  of  the  fore-revolution  days. 
His  popularity  is  said  to  be  due  to  his  open  and  un- 
disguised sympathy  with  America  in  the  Spanish  War, 
for  which  they  are  very  grateful,  believing  that  his 
influence  kept  some  of  the  European  nations  from 
backing  up  Spain.  A  few  weeks  back  I  went  to  Wash- 
ington to  assist  in  selecting  the  site  for  the  Anglican 
Cathedral,  and  staying  with  the  Bishop,  was  intro- 
duced by  him  to  President  Roosevelt,  with  whom  I 
had  a  long  talk,  and  another  the  same  evening  at 
White  House.  He  is  a  very  fine  type  of  a  Dutch- Anglo- 
Scotch-American,  with  an  extraordinary  memory  for 
everything  he  has  read  at  any  time.  A  chance  remark 
brought  up  Central  Asia  and  the  Chinese  question.  A 
slip  on  my  part  in  speaking  of  the  Turks  was  promptly 
set  right  by  the  President,  who  right  off  showed  me 
how  to  discriminate  between  the  Tartars  and  Seljouk 
Turks,  backed  with  an  historical  sketch  of  the  two 
great  Tartar  invasions,  with  names  and  dates  all  ready 
to  hand,  without  any  hesitation.  He  reads  every  new 
book,  including  romances,  and  remembers  the  whole 
lot. 

"  The  arrangements  at  White  House  are  very  Royal 
at  evening  functions,  almost  as  good  an  imitation  as 
a  State  dinner  at  the  Guildhall  in  London.  The  naval 
and  military  attaches'  uniforms  and  the  white  and 
gold  rooms  with  red  and  white  roses  everywhere  made 
a  bright  and  pleasing  picture.  I  noted  a  splendid 
arrangement  for  dealing  with  the  waiting  carriages 
which  was  quite  perfect.  On  arriving  you  are  given  a 
double  card  ticket,  half  of  which  is  handed  to  your 
coachman  and  is  printed  only  with  your  number.  Your 
half  is  punched  with  an  arrangement  of  round  holes, 


EDWARD  CAZALET  279 

like  the  Brail  alphabet  for  the  blind ;  then  on  leaving 
as  you  pass  into  the  Vestibule  your  card  is  dropped 
into  a  small  iron  box,  constructed  on  the  principle  of 
the  Jacquard  loom,  and  immediately  your  number 
blazes  out  in  letters  of  fire  on  the  front  of  the  outside 
Portico,  and  before  you  can  get  down  the  steps  your 
carriage  is  waiting,  without  any  shouting  or  fuss. 

"  I  like  my  work  very  much,  but  find  it  difficult  to 
make  much  headway  as  the  whole  of  my  office  time  is 
taken  up  with  visitors,  who  often  have  waited  their 
turn  for  over  an  hour  in  the  gallery  outside  my  office 
door.  I  shall  have  to  struggle  to  make  a  South 
Kensington  Museum  of  this  one,  as  the  dominant  feel- 
ing is  that  it  should  be  high  and  dry  like  the  British 
Museum  and  the  National  Gallery.  They  still  believe 
in  salvation  through  culture  and  their  heads  are  not 
strong  enough  to  carry  it.  I  trust  that  the  winter  did 
not  bring  you  any  of  its  troubles,  and  with  kind 
remembrances  to  your  family  at  No.  45, 

"  I  remain, 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  Purdon  Clarke." 

Another  friend  with  artistic  and  antiquarian  tastes 
was  the  late  Mr.  Albert  Hartshorne,  a  delightful  man, 
best  known,  perhaps,  by  his  monumental  work  on 
Old  English  Glass. 

My  mother  was  always  attracted  to  anyone,  old  or 
young,  who  took  an  interest  in  collecting.  Possibly 
this  accounted  for  a  unique  friendship  which  she 
formed  in  the  last  years  of  her  long  and  happy  life  with 
a  son  of  her  friend,  Mrs.  Cazalet,  of  Fairlawne,  Kent. 

She  first  met  Edward  Cazalet  at  Mr.  Winston 
Churchill's  wedding.  An  immediate  sympathy  seems 
to  have  arisen,  and  in  spite  of  the  enormous  disparity 
of  their  ages— she  was  eighty-two,  he  an  Eton  boy  of 
sixteen — a  real  friendship^ ensued. 

My  mother,  who  was  very  fond  of  Mrs.  Cazalet, 
often  went  to  stay  at  the  latter's  country  house  in  Kent 


280  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

and  there  "  her  admirer,"  as  she  called  him,  never  tired 
of  listening  to  her  recollections  of  the  many  interesting 
people  she  had  known,  and  of  social  life  in  long- 
vanished  Victorian  days,  often  noting  them  down  in 
his  diary. 

She  was  attracted  by  his  great  charm  of  manner, 
singularly  artistic  nature  and  cultivated  tastes — when 
quite  a  boy  he  made  a  remarkable  collection  of  old 
furniture,  china,  and  books.  My  mother's  Memoirs 
occupied  an  honoured  place,  while  a  special  box  was 
kept  for  her  letters,  in  which  more  than  sixty  of  them 
were  found. 

A  curious  and  amusing  thing  about  this  corre- 
spondence was  that  when  "  her  admirer  "  had  not  been 
to  see  her  for  any  length  of  time  she  wrote,  Dear 
Mr.  Cazalet,  when  his  visits  were  frequent,  Dear 
Edward. 

Writing  in  October,  1911,  to  Mr.  Cazalet,  she  said  : 

"lam  with  a  shooting  party — but  I  scarcely  know 
anyone,  and  those  I  do,  except  the  dear  hostess,  don't 
seem  worth  knowing.  Yes — as  you  say- — how  few 
people  take  an  interest  in  anything.  Therefore  I 
hardly  ever  talk  on  these  subjects  ;  but  my  great 
delight  is  to  go  to  the  Museums,  etc. — it  is  the  greatest 
pleasure, 

"  I  hear  Dizzy's  book  will  not  come  out  till  January 
or  so.  I  do  so  delight  in  old  houses,  and  remember 
your  dear  mother  taking  me  over  to  those  beautiful 
places.  I  am  going  (D.V.)  on  Friday  till  Tuesday  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Bankes  at  Kingston  Lacy  and  at 
Corfe  Castle,  which  I  shall  indeed  enjoy. 

"I  am  so  grateful  for  the  P.C.s.  What  a  place 
of  interest  Hanover  must  be — and  yet  \no  one  goes 
there. 

"lam  expecting  daily  a  delightful  '  2  books  '  done 
by  Ld.  March.  Years  ago  I  saw  at  Goodwood  some 
old  letters  of  Louise  de  Querouaille  and  her  son,  the 
1st  Duke  of  Richmond.     The  late  Duke  would  not 


EDWARD  CAZALET  281 

have  these  letters  published,  but  Ld.  March,  son  of  the 
present  Duke,  has  done  them,  and  every  moment  I  am 
expecting  these  treasures,  for  having  already  seen  them 
in  a  '  wild  state  '  I  shall  indeed  appreciate  them. 

"  Now,  dear  friend,  I  must  leave  off,  and  always 
thanking  you  for  your  kind  thought  of  me.  I  saw  your 
dear  mother  yesterday,  and  hope  I  shall  soon  do  so 
again. 

"  Yr.  affec.  friend, 

"D.  Nevill." 

In  November  of  the  same  year,  when  Mr.  Cazalet 
was  completing  his  education  at  Hanover,  she 
wrote : 

My  dear  Edward, 

...  I  so  often  think  of  you  in  that  lovely  old  town. 
I  suppose  you  will  be  a  real  German  when  you  return. 
I  always  regard  them  as  a  nation  of  Ants,  so  busy,  etc.  ; 
but  I  don't  want  L.G.  to  bring  their  ideas  and  manners 
here.  We  are  very  independent,  and  these  wretched 
Germans  are  ruled  and  regulated  till  they  are  mere 
machines— it  is  all  horrible— so  repugnant  to  our 
liberty  ideas. 

I  must  have  done  now.     When  do  you  return  ? 

I  hope  we  are  now  a  fixture  for  some  time.  We 
always  stay  alone  for  Xmas— much  happier  than 
when  in  midst  of  hilarity,  which  makes  one  so  sorrow- 
ful. One  blessing  is  that  it  passes  and  is  a  great  point 
gained.     Write   soon   again,   for  I  prize  your  letters 

always.  . 

Your  dear  old  friend, 

Dorothy. 

This  unique  friendship  between  youth  and  extreme 
old  age  was  my  mother's  last  great  happiness. 

As  for  Mr.  Cazalet,  he  made  no  secret  of  his  affectum 
and  admiration,   to  which   he  often   referred   in   In 
diary. 


282 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


"  I  am  so  unhappy  [wrote  he  when  at  Cannes  in 
March,  1913] ;  we  have  just  had  a  wire  to  say  that  my 
dear  Lady  Dolly  died  yesterday  evening. 

"  Dear  Lady  Dolly,  such  a  loving  and  true  friend — 
I  shall  never  forget  her." 

The  War  broke  out,  and  in  the  autumn  of  1914 
Edward  Cazalet  joined  the  Army  from  Cambridge. 
War  was  utterly  repugnant  and  hateful  to  his  gentle 
and  artistic  temperament  ;  but  duty,  which  to  him 
was  ever  a  real  religion,  pointed  the  way,  and  without 
hesitation  he  entered  upon  the  great  adventure. 

Many  have  made  the  great  sacrifice,  but  few  as  great 
a  one  as  he.  Nevertheless,  no  sign  escaped  him  of  the 
distaste  with  which  the  unspeakable  horrors  he  saw 
must  have  inspired  a  youth  of  his  sensitive  and  essen- 
tially peaceful  nature.  He  was  always  cheerful  when 
with  the  Welsh  Guards,  and  gained  great  popularity 
with  the  whole  battalion. 

His  military  career,  however,  like  his  life,  was  not  to 
last  long,  for  he  fell  on  September  10th,  1916,  fighting 
with  the  greatest  courage  and  resolution. 

A  mere  child  in  looks  as  well  as  years,  his  death  was 
a  triumph — his  example  an  inspiration  from  beyond 
the  stars. 


CHAPTER    XI 

Spartan  habits— Old  friends— The  Hon.  Gerald  and  Lady  Maria 
Ponsonby — Lady  Dorchester — Country-house  visits — Death  of  Lady- 
Cork — A  great  light  of  the  social  world — The  end— A  wonderful  life — 
Motor-cars  and  horses — An  elusive  personahty — A  dictum  of  Dr. 
Jowett — Social  gifts — Inconsistency — Views  as  to  female  suffrage — 
Countess  Kisseleff — Mrs.  Fawcett — Philanthropic  work — Visits  to  the 
London  Hospital — Hatred  of  humbug — Literary  efforts — Past  and 
present. 

MY  mother,  though  very  small  and  apparently 
frail,  was  constitutionally  one  of  the  healthiest 
of  women,  and  during  her  long  life  she  enjoyed 
exceptionally  good  health. 

This  she  was  wont  to  attribute  to  her  somewhat 
Spartan  habits. 

In  winter,  no  matter  how  cold  the  night,  she  would 
have  no  fire  in  her  bedroom,  and  punctually  at  half- 
past  nine  made  her  appearance  at  breakfast  every 
morning. 

A  glimpse  of  the  sun  even  on  a  chilly  day  would 
cause  her  to  take  her  inevitable  walk  quite  insuf- 
ficiently wrapped  up.  Instead  of  growing  more  careful 
of  her  health  with  age  she  became  more  careless, 
indeed  it  sometimes  seemed  as  if  she  was  courting 
disaster. 

No  protests  could  move  her.  When  urged  to  take 
greater  care  of  herself  she  would  retort,  'Well,  1 
have  done  as  I  am  doing  for  70  years  and  you  must 
admit  the  result  hasn't  been  bad." 

Owing  to  her  own  exceptional  good  health  she  could 
not  quite  understand  illness,  indeed,  as  far  as  her 
exceedingly  kind  "heart  allowed,  she  was  rather  in- 
clined to  be  intolerant  of  it  as  a  sort  of  minor  form 

of  social  crime. 

283 


284 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


"  What  is  the  matter  with  so  and  so  ?  "  she  would 
say.  "  True  he  (or  she)  has  had  five  doctors,  one  I 
daresay  more  useless  than  the  other,  and  when  I  call 
to  inquire  I  find  there  is  no  improvement ;  it  really 
is  too  tiresome,  this  illness  has  been  going  on  for 
over  a  month  now,  something  really  ought  to  be 
done." 

The  minor  ailments  of  the  fashionable  world  did 
not  move  her.  She  thought  them  mostly  moon- 
shine. 

She  had,  however,  a  sort  of  time-limit  for  indisposi- 
tion, after  which  she  began  to  take  a  more  serious 
view  of  it,  and  no  one  was  more  sympathetic  than 
she  when  cases  of  serious  illness  occurred  amongst  her 
friends. 

As  regards  her  own  ailments,  she  was  adamant  in 
never  complaining  and  minimizing  any  inconvenience 
they  might  be  causing  her. 

Some  years  before  she  died  an  oculist  whom 
she  consulted  told  her  that  there  was  a  practical 
certainty  of  her  going  blind.  This  terrible  sentence 
she  supported  with  an  unflinching  and  admirable 
bravery,  saying  nothing  of  it  to  her  friends  or  to  her 
family,  and  continuing  to  lead  her  usual  life.  With 
characteristic  originality  she  had  written  down  the 
oculist's  opinion  on  a  piece  of  paper  and  put  it  away. 
Ten  years  later  she  laughingly  showed  it  to  me.  A 
kindly  Providence  had  proved  reluctant  to  shut  the 
light  of  daylight  from  her  eyes,  and  to  the  end  of  her 
fife  she  continued  to  be  able  to  see,  indeed  latterly 
her  eyesight  improved  rather  than  deteriorated,  and 
with  the  help  of  glasses  she  could  easily  read  small 
print. 

Every  day,  wet  or  fine,  she  took  a  walk  and  her 
picturesque  little  figure  was  familiar  to  all  those  who 
lived  about  Berkeley  Square.  She  always  went  alone, 
leading  her  small  dog,  and  generally  seemed  immersed 
in  thought.  Probably  she  was  thinking  of  the  many 
vanished  friends,  who  had  trodden  the  same  ground 


OLD  FRIENDS  285 

since  she  had  toddled  as  a  child  out  of  her  father's 
house  in  Mayfair. 

She  seemed,  indeed,  the  incarnation  of  another  age 
as  she  slowly  threaded  her  way  amidst  the  hustling 
crowds  of  Piccadilly  and  Bond  Street. 

The  recollection  of  the  social  carnival  of  her  youth 
though  vivid  gave  her  no  pangs,  for  her  no  gloomy 
spectres  danced  direful  dances  in  the  old  houses  she 
had  known  so  well. 

Time  had  dealt  very  gently  with  her,  and  she 
remained  sprightly  and  gay  when  most  of  the  hand- 
some partners  of  her  early  seasons  had  become  dull- 
eyed  tottering  old  men. 

She  thoroughly  appreciated  her  good  fortune,  and 
would  speak  with  kindly  sympathy  of  those  who  had 
dreamed  and  hoped  and  struggled  and  gone  down. 
How  many  had  she  not  known  who  had  sailed  and 
never  come  to  shore  ? 

In  her  last  years,  however,  she  was  a  good  deal  saddened 
by  the  disappearance  of  a  number  of  old  friends. 

In  1908  died  Mr.  Gerald  Ponsonby,  a  real  connoisseur 
of  art  and  a  man  of  very  great  taste,  who  at  the  same 
time  shared  her  love  of  collecting  unconsidered  trifles. 
His  death  and  that  of  his  wife,  Lady  Maria,  a  few 
years  later,  came  as  great  blows. 

By  191 1  nearly  all  her  old  friends  had  passed  away 
— her  cousin,  Sir  Algernon  West  (still  happily  alive), 
was  one  of  the  few  spared  by  the  ruthless  hand  of 
Time. 

Another  was  her  near  neighbour  in  Charles  Street — 
Lady  Cork — who  notwithstanding  that  she  had  been 
unable  to  leave  her  sofa  for  years,  still  retained  much 
of  her  mental  vivacity,  and  in  conversation  was  almost 
as  ready  and  quick  as  ever. 

Lady  Dorchester,  on  the  other  hand,  though  she 
was  to  outlive  both  the  former  lady  and  my  mother, 
was  already  failing. 

"  How  remiss  I  have  been  in  replying  to  your  kind 
and  interesting  letter,"  she  wrote.     "  I  have  not  any 


286 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


energy,  would  that  I  had.  Alas !  '  years  steal  from  the 
mind  as  vigour  from  the  limb,'  as  Byron  says.  I  find 
it  so ;  you  do  not,  and  enjoy  all  things." 

Though  owing  to  increasing  age  my  mother's 
hitherto  irrepressible  vivacity  began  to  show  a  slight 
but  marked  abatement,  she  retained  a  fair  measure 
of  what  Mr.  Gosse  in  a  letter  to  her  once  termed  "  the 
energy  and  the  daring  of  immortal  youth." 

She  still  enjoyed  country-house  visits  and  delighted 
in  going  to  stay  at  Orwell  Park,  the  seat  of  Mr.  and 
Lady  Beatrice  Prettyman,  with  Lord  and  Lady  Polti- 
more,  Lady  Battersea,  and  other  friends. 

A  year  or  two  before  her  death,  however,  her  letters 
showed  a  disinclination  for  social  enjoyments  which  was 
entirely  new  to  her. 

"  I  have  seen  nothing,"  she  wrote,  "  of  the  royal 
gaieties.  The  longer  I  live  the  less  I  care  for  society — 
such  as  it  is,  and  no  worldly  wishes  trouble  me.  I 
love  my  friends  and  my  possessions  and  I  get  fonder 
and  fonder  of  books.  I  have  been  greatly  interested 
in  Mr.  E.  Cadogan's  book  about  Napoleon,  Cavour, 
and  Bismarck. 

"  The  ist  about  Nap.1  interested  me  so  much 
because  it  recalled  to  me  my  old  days  when  we  saw 
so  much  of  Napoleon,  and  poor  Rachel2  and  myself 
were  told  we  ought  not  to  see  so  much  of  him  as 
he  was  so  disreputable.  Oh,  how  time  goes  on  and 
how  we  recollect  the  past  and  how  different  all  is 
now." 

She  became  less  vivacious  than  of  old  and  cared 
less  for  seeing  people.  Writing  in  19 12  of  her  last 
annual  visit  to  Dorset  she  said,  "  I  was  very  happy 
in  my  dear  county — Dorsetshire — the  neighbours  de- 
lighted to  welcome  me — came  in  shoals  and  (beast 
that  I  am)  I  did  not  care  to  see  them." 

A  great  comfort  and  support  to  her  in  her  old  age 
was  her  daughter  Meresia,  to  whom  she  was  devoted 

1  Napoleon  III. 

*  Her  sister,  Lady  Rachel  Walpole. 


LADY  JDOROTm    NK\  ILL    l\    OLD    VG1 

PROM     A     SILHOI    ETTI 


DEATH   OF   LADY   CORK  287 

and  on  whom  she  greatly  relied  in  many  matters- 
calling  her  "  my  sheet  anchor  and  rudder." 

There  was  an  extraordinary  sympathy  between 
mother  and  daughter,  though  two  people  more  different 
from  one  another  in  every  way  never  existed. 

They  lived  together,  however,  in  perfect  amity  and 
concord  and  no  cross  word  ever  passed  between  them. 

Though  more  apathetic  than  of  old,  her  interest  was 
still  aroused  when  she  met  anyone  exceptionally  clever 
or  amusing. 

"  One  Saturday  I  went  to  Ld.  Burnham's  and  met 
a  pleasant  party,  amongst  others  Rufus  Isaacs,  he 
seemed  very  pleasant  but  so  overworked — and  sad 
to  think  in  this  common  world  of  ours  he  is  not  for 
common  food  and  we  may  never  meet  again." 

As  time  went  on,  however,  she  became  somewhat 
graver  than  of  yore.  The  disappearance  of  so  many 
of  her  old  friends  saddened  her,  as  the  following  written 
in  April,  1911,  to  Mrs.  Cazalet  shows  she  began  to 
realize  that  her  own  end  could  not  be  far  off. 

My  Dearest,  Kindest  of  Dears, 

Your  lovely  flowers  came  yesterday  and  the 
pot  ornaments  my  room,  sweetens  it  and  reminds 
me  of  you  who  are  always  so  dear. 

"  The  birthday  is  passed  and  it  is  all  too  sad  to 
think  how  my  happy  life  is  passing  away;  but  it 
cannot  be  helped— nothing  can  be  helped  in  tins 
world." 

In  October,  1912,  her  near  neighbour  and  old  friend 
Lady  Cork  died,  which  without  doubt  mad<  a  very 
great  impression  upon  my  mother,  who  did  not  think 
that  a  sufficient  tribute  had  been  paid  to  her  dear 
friend's  brilliant  mental  and  social  gifts.  In  a  letter 
she  said  : 

"I  only  heard  from  Mr.  Bugle  that  she  died  at 
5  in  the  morning  and  I  never  heard  anything  mon 


288  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

there  has  been  never  a  sound  in  the  papers  about  her. 
I  think  it  all  most  extraordinary  as  she  was  certainly 
a  great  light  in  our  world. 

"  They  begged  no  flowers  might  be  sent,  but 
I  saw  there  were  6  wreaths  laid  on  the  coffin.  I 
suppose  she  was  taken  to  Marston  ?  " 

Some  five  months  later  as  a  consequence  of  a 
cold,  the  slight  form  which  for  so  many  years  had 
vibrated  with  sympathy  and  intelligence  was  unable 
to  overcome  the  serious  symptoms  which  shortly 
afterwards  appeared,  and  on  the  28th  of  March,  1913, 
having  faced  her  end  with  the  greatest  fortitude  and 
calm,  she  passed  peacefully  away. 

Norfolk  had  always  been  very  dear  to  her,  and 
accordingly  she  was  laid  to  rest  at  Wickmere,  in  the 
church  of  which  she  had  been  married  some  sixty-five 
years  before. 

Hers  had  been  a  very  long  and  a  very  happy  life. 

Many  women  in  the  full  zenith  of  their  charms  have 
enjoyed  existence  to  the  full,  but  few  as  she  did  have 
retained  their  popularity  in  extreme  old  age. 

The  exact  causes  which  led  her  to  be  regarded  as 
such  an  interesting  social  figure  are  not  easy  to  define 
— not  the  least  of  these  possibly  was  the  fact  that  she 
linked  the  present  with  the  past,  and  had  been  a 
vivacious  witness  of  the  going  of  the  old  order  and  the 
coming  of  the  new. 

Unlike  most  old  people  she  was  broadminded  and 
tolerant  in  the  extreme.  Such  complaints  as  she 
made  arising  more  from  that  rarest  of  gifts  in  woman 
— an  overflowing  sense  of  humour — than  from  any 
real  resentment  against  modern  ways  and  ideas. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  she  could  contemplate1 
with  acute  and  friendly  gaze  the  many  changes  which 
had  gradually  come  about  during  her  long  life. 

She  saw  the  rigid  compartments  into  which  the 
various  classes  of  the  community  had  formerly  been 

1  Times,  June  30th,  191 4. 


MOTOR-CARS  AND  HORSES  289 

penned,  broken  up,  and  smashed  into  matchwood, 
while  ideals  which  had  commanded  respect  were 
thrown  as  it  were  upon  the  rubbish  heap. 

Nevertheless  she  remained  unruffled  to  the  last  day 
of  her  life.  Indeed,  her  interests  and  sympathies  were 
more  concerned  with  the  world  of  the  present  than 
with  that  of  the  past— an  almost  unique  state  of  mind 
in  persons  of  very  advanced  age  ! 

To  the  last,  indeed,  she  was  continually  occupied 
with  the  life  that  was  being  lived  around  her— with 
the  investigation  of  new  ideas  and  new  inventions — 
with  meeting  fresh  people  and  discussing  fresh  themes. 

Though  rather  inclined  to  be  contemptuous  of 
innovations  and  apt  comically  to  complain  that  the 
modern  world  could  let  nothing  alone  she  took  the 
greatest  interest  in  new  inventions  and  was  from  the 
first  very  sanguine  as  to  the  future  of  the  motor- 
car. 

She  was,  indeed,  always  an  enthusiastic  believer  in 
the  new  industry,  and  even  when  the  automobile  was 
in  its  infancy  confidently  predicted  that  before  very 
many  years  should  have  passed  away  horses  would 
become  comparatively  rare  in  the  streets  of  great 
cities,  and  surely  enough  she  lived  to  see  her  optimistic 
predictions  more  or  less  realized. 

A  striking  proof  of  the  great  interest  which  she  took 
in  the  new  form  of  locomotion  is  the  following  curious 
quotation  from  the  Bible,  which  she  appears  to  have 
transcribed  in  one  of  her  notebooks  when  the  idea  of 
motor-cars  was  first  mooted. 

"  The  chariots  shall  rage  in  the  streets,  they  shall 
jostle  one  against  another  in  the  broad  ways  :  they 
shall  seem  like  torches,  they  shall  run  like  the  light- 
nings."   (Nahum,  Chapter  II,  verse  4.) 

Though  she  was  very  fond  of  going  in  motor-cars 

and  took  the  greatest  interest  in  them  she  would 

never  make  up  her  mind  to  abandon  her  brougham, 

at  the  same  time  lamenting  spending  money  upon 

19 


290  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

such  unsatisfactory  animals  as  horses  which,  though 
she  had  ridden  and  driven  a  great  deal,  she  always 
declared  she  did  not  care  for. 

Her  opinion  of  equine  intelligence  was  very  low. 

Nevertheless  nothing  stirred  her  more  than  the 
revelations  concerning  the  export  of  old  broken- 
down  horses  to  the  Continent ;  she  could  not  find 
words  to  denounce  the  brutes  who  sought  to  make 
money  out  of  this  peculiarly  repulsive  form  of  cruelty. 
She  did  everything  in  her  power  to  assist  the  crusade 
which  sought  to  put  a  stop  to  this  scandal,  and  only 
slackened  her  efforts  when  the  iniquitous  traffic  had 
been  effectually  suppressed. 

The  qualities  which  made  her  such  a  popular  social 
figure,  the  exact  nature  of  her  wit,  are  almost  impossible 
to  define. 

Mr.  Frederic  Harrison  confessed  that  he  found  it 
very  difficult  to  attempt  to  describe  her  personality 
in  written  words.  "  I  never,"  wrote  he,  "  felt  more 
puzzled  and  more  voiceless.  Her  rare  and  peculiar 
charm,  her  unique  power  to  see  good  in  very  different 
persons,  and  to  bring  together  into  harmonious  concert 
those  who  seemed  most  antipathetic  and  least  assimil- 
able— this  gift  was  one  impossible  to  gauge  in  words." 

"  If,"  wrote  Mrs.  Harrison,  "  she  was  of  the  18th 
century  in  the  keenness  of  her  intellectual  curiosity 
she  was  a  true  daughter  of  her  own  century  in  the 
broadness  of  her  outlook,  as  in  her  eagerness  of  desire 
to  understand  something  of  the  great  new  movements 
which  were  shaking  society,  and  to  see  some  of  the 
leaders  more  or  less  responsible  for  the  new  world 
which  she  realized  was  dawning." 

"  It  is,"  said  another  friend,  Miss  Elizabeth  Haldane, 
"  difficult  to  put  into  words  the  charm  of  Lady  Dorothy 
Nevill's  personality. 

"  It  was  an  elusive  personality,  dependent  on  a 
cachet  of  its  own  that  belonged  more  to  a  former 
generation  than  to  our  own.  The  whimsicality  of  the 
ideas  which  seemed  so  entirely  a  part  of  the  ever- 


DR.  JOWETT'S  DICTUM  291 

enduring  youthfulness  and  daintiness  of  the  individual 
sometimes  distracted  the  mind  from  the  goodness  of 
heart,  the  true  kindliness  that  went  along  with  a 
wonderful  shrewdness  of  judgment." 

Her  wit  perhaps  was  even  more  elusive  than  her 
personality  with  which,  indeed,  it  was  intimately  con- 
nected. 

She  saw  things  from  an  original  and  unexpected 
point  of  view,  while  instinctively  imparting  a  peculiar 
piquancy  to  almost  everything  she  said,  thereby  often 
carrying  off  audacious  flights  of  reckless  whimsicality. 

The  secret  of  their  success  mainly  arose  from  her 
way  of  telling  them  ;  they  were  for  the  most  part  slight, 
and  if  badly  told  would  nine  times  out  of  ten  have 
fallen  flat. 

She  was  very  fond  of  giving  amusing  little  accounts 
of  her  own  mishaps  and  deceptions  and  had  a  comical 
way  of  portraying  herself  as  a  deluded  victim. 

She  never,  however,  bored  people  with  long  recitals 
of  troubles  or  trials,  being  essentially  a  miser  where 
personal  misfortune  was  concerned  and  reluctant  to 
spread  the  infection  abroad. 

The  originality  of  her  wit  could  never  be  adequately 
conveyed  in  print ;  its  peculiar  piquancy  mainly 
depended  upon  voice,  manner,  and  personality. 

The  charm  of  her  conversation  was  as  it  were 
written  in  snow. 

She  was  at  heart  a  child  of  nature,  unaffected  by 
the  prejudices  of  the  modern  world ;  nevertheless  her 
spontaneous  merriment  bubbling  up  from  a  well  of 
originality  was  always  tempered  by  sound  common 
sense.  Her  utterances,  indeed,  though  often  uncon- 
ventional, were  always  sane. 

It  should  be  added  that,  notwithstanding  a  some- 
what irresponsible  outlook  upon  the  world,  she  never 
allowed  her  sallies  to  wound  others. 

A  hitherto  unrecorded  dictum  of  Dr.  Jowett  was 
that  every  amusing  story  must  of  necessity  be  unkind, 
untrue,  or  immoral. 


292  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

The  famous  Master  of  Balliol  never,  I  believe,  knew 
my  mother — had  he  done  so  he  might  possibly  have 
modified  the  cynicism  of  this  opinion,  for  the  majority 
of  her  amusing  stories  were  quite  free  from  any  such 
reproach. 

As  Miss  Haldane  said  : 

"  I  don't  think  I  ever  heard  Lady  Dorothy  in  my 
many  talks  with  her  say  a  really  unkind  word,  and 
this  is  much  to  say  of  one  who  loved  to  talk  of  persons 
and  of  their  foibles  as  much  as  of  their  virtues. 

"  Her  criticisms  were  incisive,  and  those  of  whose 
views  she  disapproved  (amongst  whom  were  most  of 
my  personal  friends)  were  denounced  in  no  measured 
terms.  But  one  felt  all  the  time  that  she  was  granted 
by  the  Gods  that  sense  of  human  comradeship  that 
made  her  sensible,  that  after  all  the  objects  of  her 
denunciation  were  men  and  women  and  very  interest- 
ing at  that." 

She  preferred  to  laugh  with  people  rather  than  at 
them,  and  had  an  instinctive  repulsion  for  a  sharp 
tongue. 

Her  criticism  of  a  certain  clever  lady  well  known  in 
London  society  was  : 

"  Her  cleverness  resembles  the  prickly  coat  of  a 
porcupine  whose  quills  serve  only  to  repel.  Whilst 
one  admires  her  she  has  no  real  feminine  attributes; 
and,  after  all,  men  prefer  a  tender  donkey  to  such- 
like." 

No  one  was  ever  more  considerate  towards  the  feel- 
ings of  others.  She  realized  that  a  laugh  raised  at  a 
friend's  expense  destroys  sociability  and  saw  no  fun  in 
anyone  being  made  to  look  ludicrous. 

On  the  other  hand,  she  was  prone  to  launch  her 
most  amusing  flights  of  fancy  against  herself.  She 
was  wonderfully  discreet,  and  though  well  acquainted 
with  most  scandals  never  circulated  any,  being  pos- 
sessed of  a  curious  power  of  reticence  rare  in  her  sex. 


SOCIAL  GIFTS  293 

Quarrels  or  disputes  of  any  kind  were  odious  to 
her,  and  unlike  the  great  majority  of  women  she  was 
always  ready  to  give  way  in  small  matters  if  it  was  a 
question  of  tiding  over  any  unpleasantness. 

If  she  did  not  care  for  people  she  avoided  mention- 
ing them — abuse  even  when  deserved  seemed  to  her 
vulgarity  of  the  worst  sort. 

She  was  never  a  partisan  ;  and  in  the  conversations 
which  delighted  her  she  never  argued  or  displayed 
tiresome  insistence.  Her  part  was  to  invite  the  best 
statement  of  a  case,  to  elucidate,  with  delicate  irony 
to  suggest  difficulties,  but  always  to  show  interest 
and  sympathy.  An  excellent  listener,  she  was  skilled 
in  making  good  talkers  give  of  their  best. 

She  was  never  harsh  in  her  judgments  and  strove 
rather  to  understand  than  to  criticize  ;  when  matters 
reached  an  acute  stage  she  would  say  that  it  was  her 
business  to  throw  cold  water  upon  the  matter,  as 
indeed  it  was. 

No  one  better  than  she  knew  in  conversation  how 
to  impart  a  halo  of  interest  to  long  past  events,  but 
at  the  same  time  she  always  avoided  remote  pages 
of  mouldering  history. 

Always  frank  and  unaffected  the  great  charm  of 
her  manner  was  probably  due  to  the  atmosphere  of 
detachment,  combined  with  keen  personal  interest  in 
man  and  other  things,  which  seemed  to  cling  to  the 
small  fragile  frame  and  delicate  face  with  a  wonderful 
expressive  mouth,  which  a  painter  once  likened  to 
that  of  Voltaire. 

There  was,  indeed,  a  good  deal  of  the  philosopher 
about  her.  Having  lived  so  long  and  seen  so  much 
she  had  unconsciously  arrived  at  a  deep-rooted  con- 
viction that  many  things  which  people  thought  very 
important  scarcely  mattered  at  all. 

In  her  heart  of  hearts  she  probably  deemed  herself 
more  of  a  spectator  of  the  great  drama  of  hie  than 
anything  else,  and  was  determined  to  extract  all  the 
interest  and  amusement  which  was  to  be  got  out  oi  it. 


294  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

Besides  this  she  was  so  good-natured  that  she  never 
could  bear  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  people  whom  she 
thought  clever,  amusing,  or  in  distress  even  when  their 
views  were  entirely  opposed  to  her  own — and  she  would 
generally  agree  with  them,  though  I  do  not  believe 
that  her  own  innermost  opinions,  which  she  kept  very 
much  to  herself,  were  ever  altered  one  jot. 

It  may  sound  curious  to  say  so,  but  all  who  knew 
my  mother  well  will  agree  that  she  owed  a  great  deal 
of  her  charm  to  a  curious  kind  of  inconsistency  which 
she  herself  was  not  altogether  unprepared  to  admit. 

She  was,  as  Northcote  said  of  Cosway,  a  strange 
composition  of  contrary  qualities,  being  rather  more 
of  a  mixed  character  than  the  rest  of  mankind.  Like 
Cosway  too  she  was  a  butterfly  character  who  was 
accorded  much  liberty  by  her  friends. 

She  would  speak  with  regret  of  the  pomp  and 
ceremony  which  were  the  appanage  of  the  English 
aristocracy  of  her  youth  and  dwell  with  a  certain 
pride  upon  the  rigid  etiquette  which  regulated  the 
life  of  ladies  of  the  old  school,  who  if  they  went  for  a 
walk  always  had  a  footman  following  behind. 

Nevertheless,  she  would  cheerfully  go  third  class, 
in  fact  she  occasionally  preferred  to  do  so,  alleging 
that  the  conversation  of  the  people  amused  her  to 
hear. 

In  many  ways  her  inconsistency  was  amusingly 
apparent.  She  denounced  Radicalism  and  Radicals 
and  made  a  great  friend  of  Mr.  John  Burns. 

She  laughed  at  Women's  Suffrage  and  never  failed 
to  express  her  respect  for  Mrs.  Fawcett,  whom  she 
particularly  liked. 

Though  not  at  all  interested  in  the  suffrage  agita- 
tion, she  once  came  very  near  signing  a  manifesto  in 
favour  of  votes  for  women,  saying,  when  remonstrated 
with,  "  What  does  it  matter  ?  the  whole  thing  is  non- 
sense." 

While  not  for  a  moment  carried  away  by  the  wild 
ideas  of  hysterical  visionaries  who  claimed  that  lady 


FEMALE  SUFFRAGE  295 

electors  were  going  to  produce  heaven  on  earth,  she 
did  not  believe  that  the  grant  of  the  Franchise 
to  women  would  do  any  particular  harm.  "  In  the 
long  run,"  said  she,  "  things  will  go  on  much  as 
before." 

Meanwhile  she  did  not  take  the  "  Movement  "  very 
seriously.  She  remembered  the  extravagances  of 
Suffragettes  of  other  days  such  as  the  Countess 
Kisseleff,  who  though  very  rich,  very  gay,  and  well 
advanced  in  years,  was  so  noted  a  stickler  for  woman's 
rights,  that,  at  her  grand  entertainments  in  Paris, 
she  said  her  husband  must  wait  for  a  special  written 
invitation  the  same  as  an  ordinary  guest,  and  not 
infrequently  he  waited  in  vain. 

In  the  seventies,  however,  she  herself  seems  to  have 
shown  some  sympathy  with  the  idea  of  women  being 
given  votes,  for  writing  on  September  2nd,  1873,  the 
2nd  Duke  of  Wellington  said  : 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

I  am  going  to  town  on  Friday  next,  the  5th, 
and  am  ready  for  my  visit  to  you  at  any  time.  I 
know  you  are  radical  enough  to  advocate  womens' 

suffrage. 

It  is  charming  that  the  writers  don't  know  that 
in  the  possessive  case  plural  the  apostrophe  is  after 
the  s\     I  hope  the  Women  will  learn  better  before 

the  vote.  .  , 

Yours  faithfully, 

W. 

For  years  after  this  date,  however,  she  had  a  as<  d 
to  take  any  interest  in  the  question,  and  when  the 
Petticoat  missionaries  began  to  preach  Votes  for 
Women  she  was  left  absolutely  unmoved. 

Eventually,  however,  the  antics  and  extravagances 
of  the  Suffragettes  aroused  her  irritation  and  she 
signed  a  petition  against  Women's  Sufi  which 

drew  forth  the  following  letter  from  Mrs.  Fawc<  ti. 


296 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


2  Gower  Street. 

May  3,  1907. 

Dear  Lady  Dorothy, 

So  many  thanks  for  your  kind  note.  I  shall 
be  delighted  to  come  to  you  on  Sunday  the  12th. 
I  believe  the  "  antis  "  published  your  name  as  against 
Women's  Suffrage,  sans  phrase.  But  their  position 
was  very  much  a  faked  affair,  I  am  told,  with  whole 
sheets  of  signatures  in  the  same  handwriting.  When 
your  cook  gets  a  vote  (which  will  not  be  for  a  long 
time,  because  all  we  ask  for  is  the  franchise  for  women 
who  fulfil  the  qualifications  demanded  of  men)  you 
will,  I  expect,  request  her  to  choose  her  time  for  going 
to  the  poll  when  it  does  not  interfere  with  your  meals. 
As  the  poll  is  open  from  8  till  8  this  should  not  be 
difficult. 

If  the  butler  suggested  that  he  could  not  vote  unless 
he  spent  the  day  in  the  polling  booth,  you  would  tell 
him  to  get  another  situation  ! 

We  are  very  much  taken  up  about  the  Wimbledon 
election,  and  I  am  just  off  to  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's 
committee  rooms  to  see  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do 
among  my  Wimbledon  friends. 

Ever  yours  sincerely, 

M.  G.  Fawcett. 


My  mother  had  been  a  friend  of  the  writer's  husband, 
the  blind  Postmaster-General,  whose  indomitable  spirit 
remained  unquenched  by  the  accident  which  deprived 
him  of  his  eyesight  at  the  age  of  twenty-five. 

Mr.  Fawcett 's  cleverness  and  courage  made  my 
mother  quite  forgive  his  advanced  political  views.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  her  essentially  feminine  nature 
rendered  her  very  lenient  to  those  she  liked,  even 
when  their  views  were  totally  different  from  her  own. 
To  anyone  who  really  pleased  or  amused  her  she 
accorded  great  latitude. 

Meanwhile  she  was  exceedingly  punctilious  about 


PHILANTHROPIC  WORK  297 

exercising  her  right  to  vote  for  the  County  Council, 
and  never  failed  to  go  and  poll  at  elections.  I  think 
that  had  she  not  had  a  very  moderate  opinion  of 
modern  English  feminine  intelligence,  she  would  have 
taken  a  keener  interest  in  the  Suffrage  movement. 

Fanaticism  of  any  kind  was  as  hateful  to  her  as 
religious  prejudice.  Though  a  regular  attendant  at 
church  she  did  not  attach  extreme  importance  to  the 
forms  of  worship,  being  indifferent  whether  the  service 
was  High  or  Low,  or  for  the  matter  of  that  Catholic  or 
Protestant,  for  she  was  the  very  incarnation  of  tolerance. 

Writing  in  January,  1812,  to  Mrs.  Cazalet  she  said  : 

"  I  can  only  say  I  am  indeed  a  true  friend.  My 
religion  is  always  to  try  and  mend  up  any  wounds 
others  have  made  and  be  sincere." 

The  intolerance  so  often  found  in  the  ultra-religious 
made  her  rather  shy  of  the  clergy,  at  the  same  time 
she  had  many  friends  among  them,  notably  the  late 
Father  Dolling,  the  Rev.  Osborne  Jay,  and  the  Rev. 
Edgar  Sheppard  of  the  Chapel  Royal,  "  the  dear  Sub- 
Dean"  as  she  always  called  him— a  cultured  ecclesi- 
astic who  has  written  an  able  history  of  St.  James's 
Palace  and  was  the  biographer  of  the  late  Duke  of 
Cambridge. 

My  mother  was  quite  free  from  that  love  of  meddling 
in  other  people's  affairs  which  is  too  often  the  secret 
driving  power  animating  the  efforts  of  so-called  social 
reformers,  a  number  of  whom  are  merely  unconscious 
egoists  pushing  their  own  pet  theories  of  virtue  to  an 
extreme. 

Though  she  was  ready  to  give  a  sympathetic  hearing 
to  most  philanthropic  schemes,  she  always  contnv 
to  remain  unentangled  in  any  of  the  numerous  move- 
ments or  crusades  so  dear  to  well-meaning  but  emo- 
tional people.  .    ,    .    . 

For  schemes  for  the  amelioration  of  manJand  tnai 
were  only  schemes  she  had  no  use.  She  liked  to  com. 
straight  into  relationship  with  the  individual  and  the 


298  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

real  things  of  life  and  left  the  paraphernalia  severely 
alone. 

She  was,  however,  a  strong  supporter  of  the  Salva- 
tion Army,  which  she  always  declared  did  excellent 
work,  and  was  also  deeply  interested  in  philanthropy 
of  an  unobtrusive  kind. 

In  a  quiet  way  she  worked  a  good  deal  among  the 
poor.  For  some  years  she  went  every  week  to  the 
London  Hospital,  and  only  just  before  her  death  did 
her  visits  become  less  regular. 

Concerning  these  visits  Lord  Knutsford  wrote  : 

"  Lady  Dorothy  visited  the  London  Hospital  for 
many  years — 10  at  least.  The  matron,  Miss  Luckes, 
was  a  great  personal  friend  of  hers,  because  they  both 
had  such  a  strong  sense  of  humour.  She  used  to  come 
bustling  into  the  Matron's  office,  sit  down  close  by 
her  side  and  then  in  her  inimitable  way  would  tell 
Miss  Luckes  all  the  outside  news.  No  visits  were  so 
enjoyed  by  the  Matron.  She  just  brought  from  the 
outside  world  a  brightness  into  the  Matron's  routine 
and  hard  life.  Then  she  would  go  off  to  the  wards 
and  soon  had  round  her  all  the  patients  who  were 
sitting  up.  She  would  quickly  grasp  all  their  stories, 
their  woes,  their  ailments,  their  treatment  and  was  at 
once  their  confidante  and  friend,  making  them  all 
laugh  with  the  merry  way  she  turned  things,  or  with 
a  '  Oh,  that's  nothing  to  what  a  friend  of  mine  had  to 
put  up  with,'  and  then  would  follow  a  story,  much 
embellished  I  expect,  which  would  set  them  all  laugh- 
ing. But  I  always  thought  that  the  great  help  of  her 
visits  was  the  sympathy  she  gave  to  the  workers — 
the  Sisters  and  Nurses  after  the  Matron. 

"  She  managed  to  leave  everyone  somehow  happier 
and  gayer  for  her  visits.  A  marvellous  power.  I 
have  seen  her  do  the  same  at  a  country-house  party. 
I  often  met  her  at  the  Northcliffes',  and  there  all  the 
party  would  gather  round  her,  and  she  would  talk 
on  of  old  times,  and  of  past  generations,  without  posing 


HATRED  OF  HUMBUG  299 

or  listening  to  herself  as  so  many  good  talkers  do. 
She  managed  to  combine  the  past  with  the  present 
in  a  way  no  one  else  I  ever  heard  could.  This  she  did 
to  the  poor  patients  as  well,  just  as  well,  as  she  did 
to  the  country-house  parties." 

If  there  was  one  thing  my  mother  hated  it  was 
humbug,  and  she  never  ceased  to  laugh  at  such  modern 
products  as  radical  millionaires  and  democratic  aristo- 
crats, which  according  to  her  were  merely  a  curious 
development  of  our  national  failing  of  taking  ridiculous 
things  and  people  seriously. 

She  laughed  at  the  absurdity  of  seriously  listening 
to  the  gospel  of  thrift  preached  by  very  rich  people — 
persons  who  themselves  have  neither  the  necessity 
nor  the  inclination  to  follow  its  dictates.  She  deplored 
the  increase  of  the  cult  of  the  golden  calf  and  the 
effacement  of  the  old  English  aristocracy  by  multi- 
millionaires often  of  doubtful  origin. 

The  vision  of  the  stately  past  glimmered  before  her 
eyes  and  she  noted  with  regret  the  disappearance  of 
many  old  ways  and  customs  which  had  been  the  salt 
of  life  to  the  vanished  generation  of  her  youthful  days 
when  the  leaders  of  Society  lived  in  considerable  state 
and  attached  real  importance  to  honourable  display. 

Nevertheless  she  recognized  that  from  an  intel- 
lectual point  of  view  the  61ite  of  the  world  belong  to 

no  class. 

"  I  don't  know,"  wrote  a  Radical  friend  of  hers, 
"  how  far  Lady  Dorothy  felt  that  her  class  was  pass- 
ing  away.  It  was  there  for  her,  but  she  knew  that  the 
middle  class  had  broken  the  old  barriers,  and  she 
welcomed  their  intelligence  while  feeling  that  they 
were  something  apart  from  herself. 

"  Whoever    was    alive    and    honestly    at    work- 
whether  as  a  duke  or  carpenter— was  interesting  to 
her  and  she  enjoyed  meeting  the  workers  of  the  world 
even  if  she  adjudged  them  to  be  '  horrors     of  tin 
deepest  dye." 


300  LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 

No  one  was  more  fully  alive  to  the  faults  and  follies 
of  the  class  to  which  she  belonged,  and  her  comments 
upon  its  stupidity  and  lack  of  desire  to  learn  were 
drastic  and  amusing. 

"  Those  horrors  "  (meaning  the  Radicals),  she  would 
say,  "  are  so  clever  and  we  are  so  stupid;  but  then 
look  how  well  they1  are  educated,  while  our  children 
learn  nothing  but  how  to  spend  their  parents'  money  !  " 

She  often  made  comical  complaints  of  the  unlimited 
ignorance  which  prevailed  in  fashionable  drawing- 
rooms. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  speaking  of  one  lady  who  was 
supposed  to  be  very  cultured,  "  she  can  just  about 
read  ?  " 

Her  summing  up  of  another  fashionable  "  giggle- 
trot  " — a  favourite  expression  of  hers  when  speaking 
of  ladies  entirely  abandoned  to  frivolity — was,  "  She 
is  indeed  curious  and  well  adapted  to  open  bazaars." 

My  mother  would  often  deplore  the  indifference 
shown  by  the  upper  class,  (a  term,  it  may  be  added, 
which  she  refused  to  abandon),  towards  art  and  learning. 

Writing  a  year  or  so  before  her  death  to  Miss  Haldane 
she  said  : 

"I  do  so  agree  with  you — though  I  ought  not  to 
say  so — that  the  upper  class  are  very — I  don't  know 
what  to  say — but  they  seem  to  take  no  interest  in 
anything — but  golfing,  etc.  It  makes  me  quite  sad 
when  I  go  to  any  of  the  museums  to  see  not  a  soul 
hardly  there,  and  the  few  that  are  there  only  giggling, 
etc.  One  day  I  was  at  the  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum, 
just  a  few  sprinkles  of  legs,  for  I  am  sure  they  looked 
too  frivolous  to  have  bodies  and  souls  attached  to 
them — but  what  softened  the  sight  to  my  eyes  were  2 
little  Japs  poring  over  each  article  with  a  handbook, 
so  eager  to  know  everything  there  was  to  be  seen — 
our  bodies  of  course  giggling  and  looking  at  nothing. 
Still  worse,  not  one  soul  of  the  higher  class  visible; 

1  She  referred  to  the  Middle  Class. 


HATRED  OF  SNOBBISHNESS  301 

in  fact  I  never  heard  of  any  one  of  them  knowing  of 
the  place  and  for  this  we  are  spending  millions— it  is 
all  too  painful." 

"I   suppose,"   wrote  the  recipient   of  this   letter, 
'  she  was  a  real  Tory  of  the  old  school  and  yet  her 
criticism  of  her  class  was  most  severe. 

"  Matthew  Arnold  could  not  have  been  harder  on 
the  '  Barbarians  '  who  never  troubled  to  visit  a  picture 
gallery  or  museum.  To  her  who  was  ever  improving 
her  mind  in  the  real  and  not  the  conventional  sense, 
such  places  and  all  historical  or  beautiful  spots  were 
teeming  with  delight,  and  she  took  every  opportunity 
of  visiting  them. 

"  She  loved  everything  that  had  life — plants  and 
animals — and  had  the  tenderest  regard  for  the  humble 
friends  dependent  on  her." 

So-called  artistic  movements  started  by  fine  ladies 
to  pass  away  their  time  merely  made  her  smile,  while 
the  languorous  raptures  and  affectations  of  certain 
coteries  entirely  failed  to  impress  her. 

The  airs  assumed  by  individuals  who  claimed  to 
possess  a  culture  to  which  ordinary  mortals  could  not 
attain  aroused  in  her  nothing  but  amused  contempt. 

She  remembered  Hans  Andersen's  old  fairy  tale  of 
the  man  who  contrived  to  be  allowed  to  go  about 
naked  on  the  pretence  that  in  reality  he  was  wearing 
clothes  which  only  the  wise  could  see,  and  was  never 
for  a  moment  taken  in  by  their  ridiculous  affectations 

Pose  or  pretence  of  any  kind  was  to  her  an  absolute 
abomination,  and  any  form  of  snobbishness  earned 
her  unmitigated  contempt.  In  spite  of  her  aristo- 
cratic leanings  she  was  in  many  things  indeed  al 
heart  a  real  Radical  and  one  who  could  on  occasion 
be  almost  fiercely  democratic. 

Any  attempt  to  interfere  with  persona]  liberty 
would  rouse  my  mother  to  real  fury. 

For  instance,  the  barriers  put  up  at  the  coronation 
of  the  present  King  made  her  very  angry. 


302 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


As  regards  her  intellectual  interests  they  were 
varied  to  an  extraordinary  degree. 

Everything  may  be  said  to  have  interested  her,  but 
in  the  way  of  books,  though  by  no  means  averse  to 
light  reading,  those  dealing  with  scientific  subjects 
were  her  favourites. 

Though  not  very  fond  of  foreigners  she  greatly 
appreciated  their  literature.  She  delighted  in  a  life 
of  Verlaine  which  she  read  just  before  her  death. 

Her  own  literary  output,  excluding  the  volumes  of 
Reminiscence,  produced  in  her  last  years,  was  not 
great. 

The  few  articles  she  wrote  on  foreign  travel  and  on 
hobbies  such  as  silkworm  culture  and  old  ironwork 
were  slight  in  the  extreme.  A  little  book  upon  silk- 
worms and  a  more  ambitious  work  upon  the  Walpole 
family  show  a  certain  capacity  for  research. 

Unfortunately  the  unrivalled  opportunities  she 
enjoyed  for  being  a  social  historian  were  never 
utilized  to  their  full  extent. 

The  volumes  of  recollections  written  in  extreme  old 
age  while  dealing  mainly  with  the  more  superficial 
side  of  social  life  show  what  she  might  have  done 
had  she  ever  chosen  to  keep  a  careful  diary. 

It  was,  however,  entirely  alien  to  her  disposition 
to  do  anything  of  the  sort. 

In  a  letter  to  me  written  some  years  ago,  an  old 
friend  of  my  mother's  (Mr.  Fisher,  a  grandson  of 
Cobden),  speaking  of  certain  laments  of  mine  con- 
cerning my  mother's  disinclination  in  earlier  years  to 
write  a  careful  account  of  all  she  had  seen  and  heard, 
said : 


"  I  sympathize  with  your  remarks  about  Lady 
Dorothy,  and  it  is  a  real  loss  to  the  world  that  she 
has  not  been  willing  to  dedicate  some  of  her  time  to 
literary  work  which,  with  her  remarkable  talents  and 
brilliancy,  would  have  focussed  the  events  of  her  unique 
and  varied  life  into  a  truly  valuable  record. 


PAST  AND  PRESENT  303 

"It  is  of  course  a  blessing  to  be  able  to  maintain 
the  keen  and  vivid  interest  she  feels  in  current  events 
and  in  the  people  of  to-day — but  she  could  tell  so  much 
of  past  days,  and  of  the  great  men — personal  friends 
of  her  own — who  contributed  to  the  history  of  our 

country. 

"I  do  not  wonder"  (added  he)  "that  you  feel — 
shall  I  say  jealous  ? — that  Lady  Dorothy  is  absorbed 
by  the  present  at  the  expense  of  the  past." 

That  perhaps  may  be  taken  as  the  best  criticism 
of  her  literary  work,  while  at  the  same  time  an  accurate 
definition  of  the  mentality  which  kept  her  young  and 
vivacious  long  after  she  had  passed  the  allotted  span 
of  three-score  years  and  ten. 


INDEX 


Ailesbury,  Maria,  Marchioness  of ,  194, 

195 
Airlie,  Blanche,  Countess  of,  52,  56, 

218  ;  letters  from,  182, 183,  219-224 
Albert,  Prince,  19,  20 
Alcester,  Lord,  137 
Alexandra,  Queen,  266 
Anderson,  Miss  Mary,  142 
Arnold,  Matthew,  198 
Asquith,  Mr.  H.,  120,  166 
—  Mrs.,  166 

Astarte,  by  Lord  Lovelace,  33,  35 
Athelhampton  Hall,  10 
Austin,  Alfred,  202 
Austria,  Empress  of,  27 

Balfour,  Mr.  Arthur,  244 

Bancroft,  Sir  Squire  and  Lady,  137 

Bankes,  Mrs.,  280 

Baring,  Major  Maurice,  218 

Bath,  Lady,  105 

Bathurst,  Lady,  115,  179 

Battersea,  Lord  and  Lady,  105,  286 

Beaconsneld,  Earl  of,  3,  149-159, 
178 

Bell,  Sir  Hesketh,  letter  from,  269, 
270 

Berkeley  Square,  1/3 

Berry,  the  Misses,  7,  8 

Blunt,  Mr.  Wilfred,  259 

Brackenbury,  General,  133,  134  ; 
letter  from,  271-273 

Braddon,  Miss  (Mrs.  Maxwell),  209  ; 
letters  from,  2 10-2  n 

Bright,  John,  letter  from,  114 

Brougham,  Lord,  23 

Bruges,  29 

Brummel,  13 

Buckland,  Mr.  Frank,  69 

Buller,  Sir  Red  vers,  136,  137 

Burghclerc,  Lady,  179 

Burnham  Thorpe,  42  ;  correspon- 
dence with  Lord  Nelson  as  to 
church,  82-85 

Butt,  Sir  Charles,  49 

Byron,  33.  34 


Cadogan,  Mr.  E.,  286 
Calcraft,  Mr.  Henry,  56 
Cambridge,    Duke    of,    135  ;     letter 

from,  136 
Campbell-Bannerman,     Sir     Henry, 

167,  168 
Cardigan,  Lady,  193-195 

—  Lord,  193 
Carnarvon,  Lady,  179 
Carnock,  Lady,  252 
Carnegie,  Mr.  Andrew,  241 
Cazalet,  Edward,  279-282 

—  Mrs.,  279,  281,  297 
Chamberlain,      Right      Honourable 

Joseph,  1 10-120;  curious  predic- 
tion as  to  statue,  118;  on  Mr. 
Asquith,  120 

—  Mr.  Joseph,  115  ;  letters  from, 
1 16-120,  238 

Chesterfield,  Lady,  73  ;  trenchant 
criticism  of  politicians,  117.  178, 
179 

Churchill,  General  Charles,  13 

—  Lord  Randolph,  110-113 
Choate,  Mr.  Joseph,  138  ;  letter  from, 

139 
Clanricarde,  Lord,  185-192 

—  Lady,  184,  193-195 
Cleveland,  Duchess  of,  40,  224 
Cloete  family,  68 

Cobdcn,  Mr.,  62,  63,  67,  146,  [47 

Cockburn,  Sir  Alexander,  49.  50 

Cole,  Sir  Henry,  876 

Cork,  Lady,  [85,  2S5,  287.  288 

Corelh,  Marie,  208 

Crealock,  General,  136 

Critchctt,  Mr.  Anderson,  letter  from, 

229,  230 
Curzon  (of  Kedleston),  Lord,  117 

Dangstcin,  Life  at,  47-75 

Darmcsttctcr.  Professor,  ^14 

Darwin,  V-58 

Delane,  John,  <!4,  55 

Demldoff,  Prince  and  Princess.  30 

I'n  kcus,  Chaiiee,  181,  182 


305 


306 


LADY  DOROTHY  NEVILL 


Dolling,  Father,  n 
Dorchester,  Lady,  35,  223,  285 
D'Orsay,  Count,  39,  44 
Dorset,  8,  9,  10,  11 
Dress  of  men,  22,  23 
Druce  case,  the,  185 
Duclaux,  Madame  (Mary  F.  Robin- 
son), 6,  214;  letters  from,  214-218 

Edward  VII,  142,  195,  262  ;    letters 

from,  263-267 
Elcho,  Lord  (present  Lord  Wemyss), 

259 
Ellenborough,  Lord,  7,  147,  148 

Fawcett,  Mrs.,  294,  296 
Fawkener,  Sir  Everard,  12 

—  (Harriet)  Lady,  her  epitaph,  13 

—  William  Augustus,  13 
Featherstonhaugh,  Lady,  62,  63 
Fisher,  Mr.,  302 

Florence,  30 

Ford,  Sir  Clare,  letter  from,  261 

Forster,  Mr.  Arnold,  276 

George  V,  King,  268 

Gladstone,  Mr.,  5,  20,  156,  161-163, 

259 
Glenesk,  Lord,  letter  from,  1 1 5 
Gordon,  Mrs.,  68 
Gorst,  Sir  John,  109 
Gosse,  Mr.  Edmund,  212,  213,  221, 

286 
Green  Wood,  68,  69 
Greenaway,  Miss  Kate,  203-206 
Greville,  Charles,  44 

Haldane,    Miss    Elizabeth,    6,    172, 
292 

—  Lord,  172 

Haliburton,  Lord  and  Lady,  132 
Halsbury,  Lord,  171 
Harcourt,  Lord,  10 

—  Sir  William,  49 
Hardy,  Mr.  Thomas,  9 
Hares  and  Rabbits  Bill,  49 
Harrison,    Frederic,    78,    139,    234; 

letters  from,  235-251 
Harrison,  Mrs.  Frederic,  245,  290 
Hartshorne,  Mr.  Albert,  279 
Hertford,  5th  Lord,  36 
Holland,  Lord  and  Lady,  31 
Hooker,  Sir  Joseph,  66 

—  Sir  William,  65 

Houghton,  Lord  (Monckton  Milnes), 

3.  197.  198 
Huxley,  Mr.  Leonard,  66 
Hyde  Park,  45-46 


Ilsington  Hall,  8,9,  11 

Ironwork,  94-97 

Irving,  Henry,  137,  138 

Isaacs,  Rufus  (Lord  Reading),  287 


Jessopp,  Rev.  Dr.,  230  ;  letters  from' 

231-234 
Johnston,  Sir  Harry,  201 
Jowett,  Dr.,  291,  292 
Jusserand,  M.,  214 


Knutsford,   Lord,   letter  from, 

299 
Kiihlmann,  Herr  von,  270 


298, 


de  Lafontaine,  Mr.,  10 
Langtry,  Mrs.,  137 
Leconneld,  Lord,  47 
Lee,  Sir  Sydney,  202 
Leveson-Gower,     The     Honourable 

Frederick,  52 
Lipton,  Sir  Thomas,  241 
Locker,  Mr.  Frederick,   198  ;    poem 

by,  199 
Lombard,  Pierre,  12 
Lovelace,  the  late  Lord,  33  ;   letter 

from,  34  ;  his  death,  35 
Luckes,  the  late  Miss,  298 
Lytton,  2nd  Lord,  254  ;  letters  from, 

255-260 


March,  Lord,  280,  281 

McCarthy,   Mr.   Justin,    199 ;    letter 

from,  200 
Mallock,  Mr.,  199 
Mannington  Hall,  105 
Mayfair,  174-177 
Mayo,  Lord,  271 
Mivart,  Professor,  59 
Molesworth,  Lady,  180,  184 
Monypenny,  Mr.  W.   F.,    159,    160, 

252 
Moore,  George,  209,  220 
—  Tom,  44 
Morley,    John    (Lord   Morley),    129, 

130,  250 
Morrison,  Mr.  Arthur,  275 
Moseley,   Mr.   Henry  Nottidge,   86 ; 

letters  from,  86-90 
Munich,  27,  28 


Napoleon  III,  286 
Nelson,  80-85 


INDEX 


307 


Nevill,  Lady  Dorothy,  childhood,  i- 
34 ;  marriage,  40,  42  ;  philan- 
thropy, 73,  298  ;  life  in  the  coun- 
try, 90-102  ;  collection  of  iron- 
work, 94-97  ;  point  of  view  to- 
wards life,  292-294,  299-303  ;  per- 
sonality, 29-293  ;  attitude  to- 
wards female  suffrage,  294-297  ; 
death,  288  ;   her  religion,  297 

—  Miss  Meresia,  286,  287 

—  Mr.  Reginald,  40-42,  47,  49 
Northcliffe,   Lord,    11  ;    letter  from, 

104,  105,  201,  240 

Oldfield,  Mrs.,  79 

Orford,  3rd  Lord,  1,  2,  3,  8,  17,  18, 
19-22 

—  4th,  3,  4 

—  5th,  3 
Orwell  Park,  286 
Osborne,  Bernal,  7,  180-183 
Ouida,  Letter  from,  261,  262 

Palmerston,  Lord,  145,  146 
Parkes,  Sir  Harry,  65,  69,  274 
Peel,  The  Honourable  A.  G.  V.,  i;i, 

172 
Politicians,  166-174 
Pollington,  Lady,  7,  37,  41 
Ponsonby,  Mr.  Gerald,  285 

—  Lady  Maria,  285 
Pope,  80 

Purdon  Clarke,   Sir  Gaspard,   letter 
from,  277-279 

Railways,  early  days  of,  1 3 

Redgrave,  Miss,  6,  28 

Restoration,  injudicious,  59,  60 

Roberts,  Lord,  133,  134 

Rome,  33 

Roosevelt,  President,  278 

Roundell,  Mrs.,  240 

Rush,  6 

Russell,  Mr.  Arthur,  69 

—  Lady,  49 

—  Sir  George,  49 

—  Late  Mr.  George,  140 

St.  Albans,  Duchess  of,  180 
St.  Helier,  Lady,  106 
Salisbury,  late  Lord,   1 
Sartoria,  Mrs.,  51,52 
Sheppard,  Rev.  Canon  Edgar.  297 


Shepstone,  Sir  Theophilus,  275 

Silkworm  culture,  05-68 

Sherbrooke,  Lord,  5,  52,  72,  163, 
164 

Silsbee,  Mr.,  and  teetotalism,  53 

Somers,  Lady,  183,  [84 

Stanley,  Sir  H.  M.,  201  ;  his  marri- 
age, 202 

Stead,  Mr.,  201 

Suffragettes,  294-297 

Tagore,  Dwakanauth,  39,  40 
Theatrical  celebrities,  137 
Thompson,  Sir  Henry,  206  ;    letters 

from,  207-209 
Times,  The. 
Tree,  Miss  Viola,  2  |  | 
Treves,  Sir  Frederick,  1  1 
Trotton,  97,  98 

Up  Park,  62,  63 

Verlaine,  302 

Victoria,  Queen,  19,  20,  - 

Voltaire,  12,  293 

Waldegrave,  Lady,  184 

Wallace,  Sir  Richard 

Walpole.  Horace,  1-4.  7*.  79.  80 

—  1st  Lord,  -.  ;.  1- 

—  Sir  Robert,  1,  2,  3,  8.  1 1 

—  Hon.  Spencer,  7.  8 
Warwick,  Lady,  109,  170 
Watts,  31,  32 
Wrardale,  Lady,  240 
Wellington,  2nd  Duke  of,  224-230  ; 

letter  from,  298 
West,  Sir  Algernon,  7.  -»5 

ibley,  Chad. 
Whistler,  203 

White,  Mr.  Montagu,  71 
Wickmere  Church.  41,  -'88 
Wilberforce,  Archdeacon 

'    5  J 

Wiml  10 

Wolff,  Sir  Henry  Drummoml 
!  id 

Wolaeley,  Lord,  letten  from,    i»i 

'33 

—  Lady,  iao,  1  -•  1 .   1 

W.. It.  it. .11  Hall,  2,   »    5.  '■•  4> 
Zao  !l"  ll  '  • 


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